Chapter Text
Bella really tried to be nothing but honest with herself. She wasn’t looking forward to this birthday party the Cullens (read: Alice) had planned. She appreciated it, but she really didn’t want all of this fussing over her. Charlie joking about her having a grey hair this morning was bad enough, but her perfect, immortal adoptive family throwing a big party?? Thanks but no.
She wasn’t a party girl even on her best day but this was an event that she would be the sole focus of (which is sweet but agonizing); she really wasn’t gung-ho about celebrating her steady progress to old lady-dom (she might definitely be developing a complex); and she thinks she’s caught some weird cold. She laid in bed for the few hours between school and the party, a splitting headache begging her to call the whole mess off, but when Edward had come to pick her up she couldn’t find it in her to say no. So she prayed the Tylenol would stop taking its sweet ass time and let her boyfriend whisk her away.
At least the weather is nice tonight. The ever-present clouds had cleared around dusk, leaving the residents of rainy Forks to be dazzled by an endless expanse of glimmering stars. Before entering the Cullen’s home and submitting herself to the festivities, Bella gives them a fleeting glance. If only she could share in their peaceful evening.
So here she is, opening the Cullens’ egregiously expensive gifts as she tries not to feel their perfect golden eyes on her. It’s uncomfortable, but that they care enough to go to all of this trouble soothed some of her discomfort. Even Rosalie is here, at least pretending she didn’t have better things to be doing.
“And here’s Carlisle and Esme’s present!”
“A little something to brighten your day.”
The little box from Carlisle and Esme is so immaculately wrapped in shimmering teal paper that she feels kind of bad opening it, skimming her finger under the seam to try to save the paper. And immediately gets a paper cut. With a trill of panic she hides the wounded finger in her mouth, wide-eyed and keenly aware that she’s a massive idiot when she tastes copper.
But the silly little human was too slow.
Bella goes to mime to Carlisle for a band-aid with her other hand, an awkward laugh in her throat, only to freeze when she catches the shift in Jasper’s face, a rumbling growl vibrating the room until the tension snaps. Everything happens so fast she only catches it in pieces.
Jasper, no longer the sweet gentleman they know, lunges, weaving through Carlisle and Esme’s attempts to catch him like smoke.
Edward pushes Bella away from him and she sails though the living room. She hits the coffee table, vases shattering underneath her. Her shoulder throbs angrily from landing on it, sharp pain lancing up her arm.
Edward and Emmett get a hold on Jasper and Alice starts trying to talk him down.
The shattered glass tore Bella’s arm to shreds so now she’s bleeding everywhere. Her head is trying to split itself open. God she really has a talent for turning simple things into disasters.
She is so sick of ruining everything
Everything, for a moment, is still as all eyes fix on Bella ruining the pristine carpet. Then with an earsplitting snarl, Jasper tears himself from Edward’s grip, a loud crack and a grunt indicating something broken for Emmett. Bella watches, almost in slow motion, as he dashes for her again.
She is so fucking sick of being helpless.
All consuming pain. Not the hellfire scorch through her veins of venom, nor her very lifeblood being viciously torn from her veins, but the shattering ache and throb of breaking and resetting bones. All at once, a moment with no ending, then power. A confidence in her body and her abilities that she never thought possible for her.
She will be helpless no longer.
There’s no plan, only broken, hazy thoughts, more feeling than anything.
Survive.
Stop him.
Family.
Hurting. Needs to stop.
With a single coiling of her powerful new body, a low warning growl, then she leaps to meet him. It’s like hitting a brick wall, but from the wrong angle.
The air leaves her lungs with the collision, the growl in her throat smothered in the smell of lilies and motor oil laced under the crisp scent of the forest at night in the dead of winter. She struggles against the arms around her ribs even as the scent wraps around her brain like a blanket, soothing her fury and terror.
“Just when I thought you couldn’t be any more trouble you had to go and turn into a fucking huge mutt.” The air rushes out of her again in a huff as a cold body finally wrestles her fully to the floor.
All fight leaves her at once. Gravity realigns itself, time stops, everything at once makes sense and none at all. Pinning her to the ground, beautiful face twisted in a snarl, was an angel. Not a blonde hair out of place even after wrestling Bella into submission, eyes an impossibly deep black.
A whine leaves her throat, confused and pleading. She hadn’t meant to anger this stunning creature, she only wanted to stop the fighting. She squirms under her firm hands, seeking to nuzzle her in supplication, to soothe her ire, but she stills immediately when a growl rips from the woman’s chest.
“Ohoho no fucking WAY!”
“Emmet, language…”
“Carlisle.” Her angel’s voice is hard enough to crack diamonds, the power in her silken tones enough to subdue any man or beast. She struggles to keep her tail from wagging at the sound of it. “What the fuck.”
Slowly, one of the others crosses the room, his sharp, sweet scent biting into her nose, but she remains still even as he kneels beside them. He begins murmuring softly, his voice oddly soothing. “How strange… At least all of her cuts have healed… Bella,” her ears twitch as he addresses her and she tenses, seeking permission in her goddess’s face. Her dark eyes narrow warningly but she doesn’t rebuke her, so she angles her ears toward the strange man to give him some of her attention. “Bella, can you change back?”
She grunts, ears folding back. Change back? But she’s so strong like this, they don’t have to worry about her no—Oh.
Right. Her birthday party. This man is Carlisle. These people are the Cullens. She’s destroyed their living room. The stunning woman pinning her is…Rosalie. Who probably isn’t going to let her go until she’s not suddenly a giant dog anymore.
A long, keening whine fills the room that she belatedly realizes is coming from her. She struggles to reign it in but only succeeds in making whimpering pants instead.
“Bella it’s alright, you’re perfectly okay—” No, Carlisle, this is a disaster!
“Just calm down, darling—” Edward, she’s made a wreck of everything, how could she possibly calm down!
All that comes out is a high-pitched growl, which does nothing to quell her panic. She starts struggling beneath Rosalie again—she needs to go, but the vampire holds firm, pressing down on her to keep her still.
“Calm down, mutt. No need to freak out, just relax.” She had never heard Rosalie so soft before, the words a gentle murmur in her ear. She begins to settle almost immediately, the surprise of it accompanied by comforting warmth that seeps into her bones. She nearly melts into the floor when a delicate hand starts to massage her ear. “Relax. Just change back. You’re getting fur all over the carpet.” It actually sounds like Rosalie is making a joke her sake and her chest swells with gratitude and affection, the warmth of it overwhelming.
She barely even notices as her bones shift and pop back into place, only aware of the safety she finds in the cold crook of Rosalie’s neck and the hand cradling her head, the peace of having the vampire in her arms. Lillies and crisp night air and something she can’t name, spicy-sweet and so rich that it makes her head fuzzy with—
She’s hugging Rosalie. Bella is hugging Rosalie and she is naked.
With a shriek, Bella scrambles back away from the statue-still blonde, mortified at the shell-shocked look on the other girl’s face. A snicker-turned-cough reminds her that she is naked in a room full of people—fuck if she blushes any harder her head is literally going to pop—and she tries to cover herself. She refuses to make eye contact.
Someone’s jacket—Edward’s—drops into her lap and she immediately hugs it to her chest.
God, why did she have to turn into a giant dog? Why couldn’t she have just mercifully succumbed to death?