Alice stepped close behind her—with something silver glinting in her hands: a ritual blade etched with ancient runes. Not vampire-made. Not werewolf-forged… but something older—a relic from before names were given to species.
"No one will touch him but me," Aria whispered, opening her eyes again—with fire returning to them.* "I'll do it myself."
She took the blade from Alice, and without hesitation gave a clean straight cut, but much, much to deep.
The blade cluttered to the floor as her fingers goes cold and numb. Putting her in dangerous territory being surrounded by these creatures of the night.
All around her, the vampires' eyes flashed gold—their lips parted in horror at the sight of her blood. The sweet, intoxicating smell of it filling the air like some exotic perfume.
Only Carlisle and Jasper remained unaffected—though both exchanged a tense look between them. There was something off about her blood. Something different. Something powerful. But neither could place their finger on it.
The silver bowl filled quickly—too quickly.
Crimson spilled over the edges, pooling in her palm and dripping down her wrist, staining the sleeve of her shirt.
She swayed—dizziness hitting like a freight train—the room tilting at sharp angles. The heat of the fire became distant. The voices blurred into echoes.
But she didn't fall.
Edward was there in an instant—one hand under her elbow, steady as stone.
"Too deep," he muttered, eyes wide with alarm. "Someone help!"
Carlisle dropped what he was doing and lunged for Aria just as her legs gave out, lowering her gently to the floor.
"Aria! Stay with us!" he urged, pressing his jacket against the wound to slow the flow.
Meanwhile—
Derek stirred.
A low groan rumbled from his chest—as if something primal had caught scent of blood.
His nose twitched.
Then—
His eyelids fluttered open—not fully—but enough for a sliver of glowing amber to cut through the dark.
And then...
He sniffed.
The room tensed—all vampires freezing—as they watched him lift his head slightly, drawn by instinct... by need... by hunger.
"He needs it now," Carlisle said urgently—"or he'll die before we can even try!"
Edward hesitated only a second before lifting Aria's arm—with care but purpose—and guiding it toward Derek's mouth.
"No!" she gasped weakly, trying to pull back—but too weak, too drained. In the haze of the moment Aria couldn't understand the purpose of the silver bowl filled with her blood if these people are going to make him drink straight from her vein.
"Just a taste," Edward whispered. "Just enough."
And then—
Derek's lips parted.
His own fangs emerged and grazed her skin where blood still welled fresh and hot…
…and he drank.
A knew kind of energy surged through him. A power he never even knew existed.
Through the Cullens eyes it's like Dèjá vu, all over again. As their all reminded of Bella's first encounter with a vampire. But this time Bella isn't the one being sucked dry. And the one doing the drinking isn't even a vampire.
The color starts to fade from Aria's complexion.
Derek drank and drank, eyes rolled back in ecstasy, the hunger that had driven him close to madness starting to ease with every taste: sharp and rich and intoxicating… but more than that. Sweet. Alive.
Like a whisper in his heart.
Like the pulse of blood in his veins.
Like the promise of life that stirred inside her womb.
And when the time came for him to stop... he couldn't.