Chapter 1
Alice slammed herself into the abandoned door, her frantic fingers struggling with the knob to force it open. When her struggle failed, she banged into the door, cautiously.
She felt herself lurch back, as the door finally allowed her to enter. She half stumbled, half dashed to the ladies’ room, running past a pale and frozen figure, whose eyes followed her..
Alice P.O.V
Numb. The pain had dulled long ago; my mind, blank.
My elbows supported me on the sink and my hands slid into my hair, grasping large handfuls. Taking several deep breaths, my hands slid down to massage stinging eyes.
Hesitantly, I dropped my hands and lifted my gaze to the blurry reflection in the mirror.
And, I remember no more.
He was standing there, frozen; his pearl like skin making it seem as though he were made of stone. Her scent had startled him, catching him off guard. He had to control himself not to pounce onto her, her scent still lingered in the air; his throat quenched in thirst, his stomach churned in hunger. Françis D’Hermonville growled, his jaw clenched, his teeth grounded together, he struggled to keep himself from chasing after her.
How easy it would be to sink his teeth into her neck, to release his want, his need, for her blood. Yet, it was the memory of his beloved that held him back.
Angelique.
Françis P.O.V
Angelique.
I remember her rosy scent that flowed off her mid-long ebony black hair, her big innocent eyes flashed through my mind; pain shot through my chest, where my un-beating heart took its place.
Those big innocent onyx eyes. The eyes that my Angelique and this irresistible Alice shared; the reason for my uneasiness.
Yet the memoirs of my Angelique didn’t stop there. A full body image coursed through my mind. As I remembered her; from her pixie-like height to her small frame, her pink lips uplifted into a smile that used to bring life into my dark world. But now… she was gone.
I took a deep breath, and willed myself to not breathe. It was uncomfortable, yet manageable; my body did not need oxygen. But it went against my instincts; yet it was more bearable, more bearable than taking in her scent with every breath, and not being urged to take a snap at her fine, thin skin to her hot, wet pulse –
I shook my head; I wasn’t to think about her scent, her taste.
Alice slammed herself into the abandoned door, her frantic fingers struggling with the knob to force it open. When her struggle failed, she banged into the door, cautiously.
She felt herself lurch back, as the door finally allowed her to enter. She half stumbled, half dashed to the ladies’ room, running past a pale and frozen figure, whose eyes followed her..
Alice P.O.V
Numb. The pain had dulled long ago; my mind, blank.
My elbows supported me on the sink and my hands slid into my hair, grasping large handfuls. Taking several deep breaths, my hands slid down to massage stinging eyes.
Hesitantly, I dropped my hands and lifted my gaze to the blurry reflection in the mirror.
And, I remember no more.
He was standing there, frozen; his pearl like skin making it seem as though he were made of stone. Her scent had startled him, catching him off guard. He had to control himself not to pounce onto her, her scent still lingered in the air; his throat quenched in thirst, his stomach churned in hunger. Françis D’Hermonville growled, his jaw clenched, his teeth grounded together, he struggled to keep himself from chasing after her.
How easy it would be to sink his teeth into her neck, to release his want, his need, for her blood. Yet, it was the memory of his beloved that held him back.
Angelique.
Françis P.O.V
Angelique.
I remember her rosy scent that flowed off her mid-long ebony black hair, her big innocent eyes flashed through my mind; pain shot through my chest, where my un-beating heart took its place.
Those big innocent onyx eyes. The eyes that my Angelique and this irresistible Alice shared; the reason for my uneasiness.
Yet the memoirs of my Angelique didn’t stop there. A full body image coursed through my mind. As I remembered her; from her pixie-like height to her small frame, her pink lips uplifted into a smile that used to bring life into my dark world. But now… she was gone.
I took a deep breath, and willed myself to not breathe. It was uncomfortable, yet manageable; my body did not need oxygen. But it went against my instincts; yet it was more bearable, more bearable than taking in her scent with every breath, and not being urged to take a snap at her fine, thin skin to her hot, wet pulse –
I shook my head; I wasn’t to think about her scent, her taste.
Twilight Child
