Shifting Moon

Chapter 220 - 220: First Hunt

(Bella POV)The burning was gone.

That was the first thing I understood with total clarity.

Then relief.

For so long, there had only been fire. Fire in my bones, under my skin, behind my eyes, inside every vein until I couldn't remember anything else. The world had been reduced to pain and the desperate, stubborn refusal to disappear into it.

Then nothing.

Then silence.

Then me.

I opened my eyes.

The ceiling above me was wrong.

Not because it had changed. But because I could see all of it. Every faint line in the plaster. Every tiny shadow where the paint had settled unevenly. A thread of dust caught near the corner, trembling in a movement of air too faint for human eyes.

I blinked.

No.

I didn't blink because I needed to.

I blinked because I remembered that I should.

The room came into focus all at once.

Too much focus.

Gold walls. Dark fabric. Bookshelves. Music stacked neatly near a stereo. The faint, clean scent of Edward everywhere, cold and sweet and familiar.

His room.

I was in Edward's room.

Not the medical room.

Memory returned in sharp pieces.

The table.

Blood.

Edward's face above me.

A tiny cry.

Renesmee.

I sat up too fast.

The room shifted around me, not because I was dizzy, but because I had moved faster than I meant to, and everything else had been too slow to keep up.

"Renesmee," I said.

Edward was beside me before the word finished leaving my mouth.

Or maybe he had been there the whole time.

He caught my shoulders, not restraining me. Warning me.

"She's safe."

I turned to him.

For a second, everything else disappeared.

Edward.

I had known he was beautiful. I had loved his face for so long that I thought I understood it. I had been wrong. Human eyes had seen only a blurred version of him, softened by weakness and distance.

Now I saw him.

The exact line of his jaw. The pale gold of his eyes, darkened with worry. The tiny fracture in his control as he looked at me like he was afraid hope might punish him for believing too quickly.

"Edward," I said.

My voice was different.

Clearer. Smoother. Not mine and yet completely mine.

His face broke.

One moment he was still, and the next his arms were around me. Careful. Too careful. Like some part of him still thought I might shatter.

I lifted my hands and wrapped my arms around him.

For one perfect second, I forgot everything.

The thirst.

The transformation.

The impossible reality of what I had become.

There was only Edward.

I hugged him the way I always had when I was human.

Hard.

A sharp cracking sound split the air.

Edward jerked slightly in my arms.

I froze.

Horror slammed into me as I realized what I had done.

My grip loosened instantly, and I pulled back.

"Edward!"

His shirt was torn where my fingers had clenched into it. Beneath the fabric, the marble skin of his shoulder showed a faint network of fresh cracks.

I stared at them.

"Oh my God."

Edward looked at the damage in the mirror, then back at me.

His expression wasn't angry.

It wasn't even surprised.

It was amused.

"Bella," he said gently.

"I hurt you."

"You hugged me."

"I broke you!"

A laugh escaped him before he could stop it.

I could only stare in disbelief.

He reached up and touched my face.

"It's your turn to be careful with me now, love. You're stronger than you realize."

Then his fingers brushed the cracked skin, and the fractures began settling back into place.

The sight did nothing to ease my embarrassment.

"I can't believe I did that."

His smile widened.

"I can."

He leaned forward and pressed his forehead lightly against mine.

"You're awake," he whispered.

"I'm awake."

The words should have been impossible.

I remembered dying.

I remembered choosing.

I remembered her.

I pulled back just enough to look at him. "Where is she?"

"Downstairs."

The thirst reasserted itself.

I had noticed it before, but only as background. A dry, cutting burn low in my throat, different from the transformation fire. Smaller, but cleaner. More demanding.

Now it flared at the word downstairs.

Because downstairs there were heartbeats.

Many of them.

Too many.

Fast wolf hearts, Leah, warm and alive. And another tiny heartbeat, bright and quick and new. Then, from closer there was a slow but loud heartbeat…Thomas maybe?

My daughter.

My mouth filled with venom.

I went perfectly still.

Edward saw.

"You need to hunt first," he said softly.

"No."

His face tightened.

I was off the bed before I decided to move. My feet touched the floor, and balance came without effort. No stumble. No clumsiness. No awkward human delay between intention and motion.

I stood between one second and the next.

"I want to see her."

"I know."

His voice was too careful.

I knew that voice.

I hated that voice. It was the one he used to 'handle' me.

"She's my daughter."

"Yes," Edward said. "And she is warm-blooded."

The burn in my throat pulsed at the words.

I hated myself for noticing.

The door opened.

Carlisle stood there, calm and watchful. Behind him, a step farther back, Thomas leaned against the hall wall with his arms crossed.

His shirt was clean, but I remembered blood on him. Blood on everyone.

"Bella," Carlisle said gently, "you are doing remarkably well already. Better than we expected. But you are still a newborn, and Renesmee is not like us. Her scent is unique. Her heart beats. Until we know how you respond, we cannot risk putting her in your arms."

I looked at Thomas.

He met my eyes without flinching.

He looked tired. Not physically. Something deeper. His expression was one I had seen before when danger entered a room.

Only this time, I was the danger.

That hurt.

More than I wanted it to.

"Thomas," I said.

His face softened immediately. "Hey, Bell's."

The nickname hit me hard enough that I almost forgot the thirst.

Almost.

"She's okay?" I asked.

"Ren is perfect," he said.

"Ren?"

His mouth twitched. "Renesmee is a lot of name for someone currently smaller than most sandwiches I eat."

A laugh escaped my lips.

It came out strange. Too musical. Too smooth.

Then the thirst cut through it again.

Thomas saw.

So did Edward.

Thomas's expression turned serious. "Bella, I love you. You know that."

I went still.

"But if you try to go downstairs before you feed," he said quietly, "I'm standing in front of you."

The room became very still.

Edward's hand moved slightly, not toward Thomas, but like he wanted to stop the words from hurting me.

Thomas didn't take them back.

I stared at him.

He stared back.

Not afraid.

Not angry.

Protective.

Of them. Renesmee, Leah, his child.

Of me too, maybe.

But mostly them.

The thirst twisted in my throat again, and for the first time since waking, I understood why they were afraid.

Because I could hear it.

Downstairs.

Small heart. Quick heart. A bigger, louder one. Warm blood...

My body noticed it all.

My body wanted.

I took one step back.

Edward's face changed, relief and grief tangled together.

"I won't hurt her," I said.

"I know," he whispered.

"No," I said, because he didn't understand. "I won't."

Thomas nodded once. "Then prove it the safe way."

I hated that he was right.

I hated that all of them were right.

I looked toward the floor, toward the tiny heartbeat below us, and forced myself to stop listening.

It did not work.

"Fine," I said.

Edward exhaled.

"But fast," I added.

His mouth curved faintly. "Very fast."

Carlisle stepped aside. "Leah and Renesmee are in the living room with everyone. If you leave by the balcony, you won't have to pass them."

"Jacob is there too," Thomas added dryly.

Edward gave him a look.

Thomas shrugged. "He's practically glued to the nearest wall."

A strange sharpness crossed Edward's face. Not anger. Not exactly. Something complicated I didn't have time to understand.

"Jacob is here?" I asked.

"Yes," Edward said carefully. "We will explain after you hunt."

Explain, I was the one that needs to explain my feelings to him. My need to keep him close… Wait, it's gone now. That's weird, but relieving too at the same time.

I narrowed my eyes.

Edward did not look away.

Thomas sighed. "That tone on your husband's face means there's a story, Bella. It also means you are not getting it while thirsty."

I wanted to argue.

The burn in my throat argued louder.

I looked at Carlisle. "You moved me here because of Leah."

Carlisle's brows lifted slightly. "Yes. The medical room needs to remain available. Her pregnancy is progressing quickly, and we cannot assume we have days."

That cut through some of my irritation.

Leah.

Her baby.

Another life waiting in the same house where mine had nearly ended.

I swallowed against the thirst. "Is she okay?"

"She is," Thomas said. "And she will remain okay if we keep one crisis from becoming three."

I looked toward the door.

Downstairs, Renesmee's heartbeat fluttered.

My daughter.

Waiting.

"Okay," I said. "Hunt."

Edward held out his hand.

I took it.

His fingers tightened around mine.

For one second, he just looked at our joined hands like he still couldn't believe we were the same.

Then we moved.

Edward led me out the sliding door, and we dropped down from the balcony.

The outside air hit me like a physical thing.

The forest was not green and damp and pretty anymore.

It was alive.

Every leaf had a scent. Every tree held layers of moss and sap and rain and insects and birds and animals moving too far away for human ears but not for mine. The night was full of tiny sounds, each one perfectly separate.

Edward moved beside me, watchful.

"Breathe as little as possible until we're farther out," he said.

"I don't need to breathe?"

"No."

I stopped breathing.

The world became quieter.

Not silent. Never silent. But less sharp. Less tempting.

Edward nodded once. "Good."

Then he ran.

I followed.

The world became motion.

Trees blurred past me, but I saw every branch. Every stone. Every drop of water clinging to fern leaves. My feet touched the ground and left it again too quickly to think about. I had always been clumsy, always fighting my own balance, always one step away from falling.

Now the ground seemed to rise to meet me.

I laughed.

I couldn't help it.

Edward glanced over his shoulder, and for one second, his face was young. Joyful. Mine.

Then the scent hit.

Animal.

Predator.

The burn in my throat answered so strongly I stumbled, not from clumsiness but from surprise.

Edward slowed ahead of me.

"Mountain lion," he said.

I crouched before I meant to.

The animal was somewhere ahead, hidden by trees and distance that did not matter anymore. I could hear its paws on the earth. Its breath. It's heart. Stronger than the deer, richer than the smaller creatures.

My body knew what to do.

That should have disturbed me.

It did not.

I sprang.

The forest snapped into clarity around the hunt. The mountain lion turned too late. It was powerful and fast and beautiful.

I was faster.

The impact should have hurt.

Nothing hurt.

I caught it, pinned it, and my teeth found the throat by instinct.

Blood filled my mouth.

Not human. After drinking human blood while I was still human, I knew the difference.

Not enough.

But enough to turn the fire into something I could survive.

I drank.

The first swallow was relief so fierce it was almost pleasure.

The second brought shame.

The third buried the shame under need.

When the body beneath me went still, I pulled back.

Edward stood several yards away, watching me.

Not horrified.

Proud.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and stared at him. "What?"

"You are extraordinary."

I rolled my eyes.

The gesture felt so familiar that something inside me loosened.

"I killed a mountain lion."

"Yes."

"And that's extraordinary?"

"For a newborn?" Edward said. "Yes. But not because of the mountain lion."

I frowned.

His head tilted slightly.

"What do you smell?"

I almost told him nothing but forest.

Then I breathed.

The world rushed in.

Animal blood. Rain. Bark. Earth. Edward. Distant wolf. Cold stone. Water.

And then…

Human.

My body locked.

Not close.

Not in sight.

But there.

Somewhere beyond the trees. Warm. Living. Fragile.

My throat erupted.

I turned before I chose to.

Edward moved too, but did not touch me.

Good.

If he had touched me then, I might have fought him.

The thought horrified me.

It did not stop me.

I ran.

Not toward Renesmee.

Not toward Edward.

Toward the scent.

The forest blurred. The burn became everything. The mountain lion had been relief. This was madness. This was need with a shape. A pulse. A direction.

Voices.

Human voices.

A man laughing. A woman answering. Boots on damp ground. Fabric shifting. Blood moving under skin.

Hikers.

They were too close.

Too far.

Mine.

No.

The thought came small and weak at first.

Then again.

No.

I dug my fingers into a tree trunk and stopped so suddenly the wood split under my hands.

The humans kept walking, unaware.

My mouth filled with venom.

My body leaned toward them.

I could almost see them through the trees. Two figures. Packs on their shoulders. Faces flushed from effort. Hearts beating.

I wanted them.

That truth was worse than pain.

I wanted them.

Edward stopped several yards behind me.

Not close enough to startle me.

Not far enough to abandon me.

"Bella," he said quietly.

His voice found one thin place in the fire.

I closed my eyes.

That made it worse.

The scent became everything.

So I opened them again and looked down at my hands buried in the tree.

Renesmee.

Her face from memory. Tiny. Warm. Alive.

Not prey.

My daughter.

If I could not stop here, I could never hold her.

The thought cut deeper than thirst.

I stopped breathing.

The scent thinned.

The fire screamed.

I stayed still.

The hikers moved farther away.

One step.

Another.

Another.

Their voices faded.

Their hearts faded.

The burn did not.

But it lost.

I turned back to Edward.

His face was different from any expression I had ever seen on him.

Awe.

Relief.

Love.

Fear, still. But no longer the same kind.

"You stopped," he whispered.

I looked toward the hikers again, barely visible now between the trees.

"I had to."

"No newborn has that kind of control."

I swallowed, though there was nothing to swallow. "I'm not doing this to be impressive."

"I know."

"I'm doing it because my daughter is waiting."

Edward's face softened.

"Yes," he said. "She is."

The words pulled me back to myself.

But the thirst was still too strong.

I looked away from the direction the humans had gone. "More animals."

Edward nodded immediately. "This way."

I hunted again.

The second kill was deer. Less satisfying. Gentler. Harder in a different way because I had time to think now.

The third was another predator, smaller than the mountain lion but richer than the deer.

Edward stayed close but not too close.

When I finished, the burn had dulled to an ache.

Still there.

Always there, maybe.

But it no longer owned me.

I stood in the quiet forest, listening to the world.

No heartbeat inside my chest.

No breath unless I choose it.

No pain.

No weakness.

No human warmth.

I should have felt less alive.

Instead, everything was too alive.

Edward came to stand beside me. "How do you feel?"

I considered lying.

Then didn't.

"Thirsty," I said. "But in control."

His eyes softened. "That may be the most newborn sentence anyone has ever said."

I smiled.

Then the smile faded.

"Can I see her now?"

Edward looked at me for a long moment.

Testing. Listening. Weighing.

Then he nodded.

"Yes."

The word nearly took my legs out from under me.

I didn't wait.

I ran.

Edward kept pace beside me, and this time the forest did not feel like a hunt. It felt like a road. A path. A way back to the tiny heart beating inside the house.

As we neared the Cullen home, more sounds separated themselves from the night.

Voices.

Emmett laughing softly.

Rosalie murmuring.

Carlisle speaking in measured tones.

Jacob's rough voice, low and uncertain.

Thomas saying something dry that made Seth choke on a laugh.

Leah's heartbeat.

And Renesmee.

My daughter.

Her heartbeat was quick and bright and waiting.

I stopped at the edge of the trees.

Edward stopped beside me.

The house glowed ahead.

I could smell blood inside.

Old blood. Bagged blood. Renesmee's warm, strange scent. Leah's living human-wolf scent. Seth and Jacob. Thomas. Too much life in one place.

The thirst stirred.

I held still.

Edward watched me.

I listened to Renesmee's heartbeat.

Not prey.

My daughter.

The thirst did not vanish.

But it moved aside.

I looked at Edward.

He smiled.

This time, Edward did not stop me.