More Than Words Chapter 13

Disclaimer - I do not own Twilight or any of its characters. No money is being made from the writing of this story. All rights belong to Stephanie Meyer.

A/N: For further understanding of the Shakespearian sonnet, please read Shakespeare’s Sonnets and Poems, from the Folger Shakespeare Library, 2006.

Beta’d by the wonderful Sparagus.


Wordlessly, Edward lifted me and carried me back into the house.

He began quietly whispering reassurances to me. He laid me in a large, white bed, pulled the thin sheet over me, and held me to his chest, dry-sobbing himself.

“I’m sorry, Bella. I won’t do that again. Not while you’re still human. Love, I’m so sorry. Please, Bella? Forgive me?”

I wordlessly sobbed myself to sleep that night, my wedding night.

I dreamt of a golden-haired cowboy, lulling me deep into slumber, reading me passages from Shakespeare.

I’m sorry, Jasper.

When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see,

For all the day they view things unrespected;

But when I sleep, in dreams they look on thee,

And darkly bright are bright in dark directed.

Then thou, whose shadow shadows doth make bright,

How would thy shadow's form form happy show

To the clear day with thy much clearer light,

When to unseeing eyes thy shade shines so!

How would, I say, mine eyes be blessed made

By looking on thee in the living day,

When in dead night thy fair imperfect shade

Through heavy sleep on sightless eyes doth stay!

All days are nights to see till I see thee,

And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me.

-W. Shakespeare, Sonnet 43


--- The sun was starting to show over the mountains just south of Monterrey. I had trekked for two days through the desert, mostly by night, to avoid detection. I would have to wait for nightfall, once more, to finish the final one hundred and eighty six miles between myself and hopefully, freedom.

My skin began to dance with the light of the sun. I would have to hide from human eyes soon. The now familiar tingle went down my spine. If I were an animal, my hackles would have risen.

I had been followed. I spun violently, scanning the landscape for the interloper, to no avail. The scent was faint, but vaguely familiar. So, she had sent an underling to dispatch me.

I crouched, not willing to go down without a fight. A wind whipped from the east, and my legs went out from under me. I hunched my body over the small bundle that now lay at my feet.

My head was thrown back, an unseen kick meeting me under my jaw. Another kick met my ribs, just under my right breast. I braced for a third, but it did not come. The sound of colliding boulders was suddenly louder to my left. The male, who I now realized had attacked me, was now on his back, his hands up, signaling compliance.

Then she stepped forward. She stood over me, looking down into my eyes condescendingly.

“Tisk, tisk, Isabella. I would have thought that you knew better by now.”

She crouched and tilted her head at me.

“You can’t run. You aren’t permitted to leave. I guess I must make an example of you. Such a pity.”

Her hand reached out and wrapped around my throat. She leaned in, her teeth grazing my neck. I heard the familiar sound of metal being torn asunder, and then everything went black. ---

I heard screaming: blood curdling, unmistakable, terrified screaming, and it wouldn’t stop. I tried to get up, tried to move away from the noise, but I was frozen in place. I was shaking.

No, something was shaking me.

“Bella! Bella, wake up! Please, Bella!”

I know that voice…

“Ed…ward?” I sleepily mumbled.

My eyes sprung open, my heart still beating out of my chest. I took in my surroundings, the big white bed, tropical heat and…Edward. I was still on the island.

“Just a…dream. Oh, thank God. It wasn’t real,” I said, crying tears of relief.

Edward shushed me and rubbed his hands up and down my arms soothingly. He looked at me gently, his eyes full of concern.

“It’s alright, Bella. You’re all right. None of it was real. Shh…please, tell me what happened?”

I sat up abruptly, gasping. I rubbed my face, eyes wide. I was still trying to shake the terror of the nightmare.

“I…I don’t know. I don’t know what that was. There was a woman. She…she was ripping my throat out. I was like…you are.”

My hand instinctively went to my neck. It was smooth and untouched. I looked up at Edward, my confusion evident on my face.

“Who?” He asked, worriedly.


I leaned into him. His arms were open in invitation, and I buried my face in his neck. The contact was comforting to me.

“Was it Victoria? Bella, she’s gone. She can’t hurt you anymore.”

“No. It wasn’t her. I’ve never seen this woman before.”

I shook my head and pulled in closer to him. It may have just been a dream, but I was sufficiently rattled.

“Tell me more? I want to help.”

He rubbed circles on my back, still bare from last night, but there was nothing sensual about this embrace.

“No,” I whispered. “I just want to get up and forget about it. It was…just horrible.”

He stood and pulled me to my feet, never breaking body contact.

“Okay, but I’m here if you need to talk about it. Let me at least make you breakfast?”

I nodded, “Thank you.”

He kissed my forehead, squeezed my shoulders, and turned to leave the bedroom. He looked back at me over his shoulder before giving me a sweet smile. Moments later, I could here the sounds of pans banging around, and a coffeemaker starting up.

I smiled, knowing that a good cup of coffee would be just what I needed to make the fuzziness disappear. I collected myself for a moment, and then I headed to the bathroom to clean up, to erase the horrid visions burned behind my eyelids.

I turned on the faucet and let the water run in the sink. I glanced at my reflection in the large, lighted mirror suspended over the basin. As I did, I realized that I was absentmindedly fingering the scar that James had given me almost a year and a half ago. I shook my head, tired of the memory, and still thoroughly confused by my dream.

What the hell was that about?


I felt terrible for hurting Bella last night. I felt even worse knowing that I almost couldn’t stop. I could hear her distress, and I could feel her panic, but it was like I was hearing her through some sort of long, metallic tube. Her pleas for me to stop were a faint whisper behind the rushing cascade of my previously unresponsive nerve endings. Each firing synapse was bringing me closer to some unknown and blissful paradise.

Then the most horrifying feeling passed through me, the almost painful need to bite something. Every ounce of my concentration was on transferring that need onto something other than Bella. Her cries were just background noise, despite my mental capacity for processing multiple occurrences at one time. Once I felt the pulsating sensations begin in my groin, I felt as if I were going to lose consciousness.

I didn't know where I found the strength to remove myself from her, but I did, and I subsequently felt intense mortification as I released upon her womanhood and thighs. Bella deserved better than that.

She eventually fell asleep, and her tears stopped. I began to calm down when I realized that she was dreaming. She murmured, little, inconsequential, nothings, at first. As the night wore on, her musings began to become louder and more animated. After several hours of her deep sleep, I began to recognize the scent of Bella’s arousal.

After the misery I had caused her, she was dreaming of me?

I watched her peaceful form, finally realizing what she had been asking for, for so long. I would have to change her soon, or this would never work out. I started to let my mind wander over the positive aspects of an unbreakable Bella, when her dreams seemed to shift.

Gone was the scent of her arousal, and in its place was the scent of pure adrenalin. Her body began to sweat, and she started to thrash in the bed.

Please don’t be dreaming of last night…

I realized that her dreams were not of me once she began talking.

“The sun…must hide…must save Foster…mountains…where is…she?”

I paid closer attention and wondered what turn her dreams had suddenly taken. She was flexing, seemingly ready to spring, her nerves tense. She was beginning to panic, and I knew I had to wake her. As gently as possible, I began to shake her.

“Bella! Bella, wake up! Please, Bella!”

She was still confused and scared when she awoke, but seemed to calm down once she recognized that I was there. I asked about her nightmare, but she couldn’t, or wouldn’t, give me many details.

I shook away the memory of this morning, and concentrated instead on making Bella an omelet. I could hear her in the bathroom, playing in the sink like she so often does when she is upset. I wished I knew what was bothering her, outside of the obvious issues that arose last night.

Was she having second thoughts about the change? Could that have brought on such a dream?

I wished for the second time, in less than twenty-four hours, that Alice could break through her mind fog, and see what would occur with Bella. Whatever Bella’s future held, I hoped it never remotely resembled the thoughts that plagued her sleep last night, whatever those thoughts were.

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