Dorothea Caddel, is born into a wealthy family that can easily give her a plane or a planet to her wishes but what if something deep is hidden in the mask of a perfect family, a devil that she fears but soon learns to accept as love. That story chan...
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Rose and Emmett had been married for just a year, but in that short time, their bond had deepened in ways many thought impossible. Their love was as loud and boisterous as Emmett himself, yet there were still moments when the house fell into peaceful silence—moments when Emmett's booming voice wasn't echoing through the hallways, and Rose's constant judgment of Edward's choices wasn't at the forefront.
In those moments, the house almost seemed... normal, quiet even. But those were rare, fleeting moments, and life with the Cullens had never been ordinary.
Dorothea, now settled into her dream room, was especially grateful to Esme for the help and Carlisle for the means. The house, for the first time in a while, felt like it was settling into a rhythm, with each member finding their place. The newlyweds had chosen to stay for a change, no longer embarking on wild, spontaneous adventures or random re-wedding. They'd decided to make a home here.
The night, like many others, was filled with the usual energy of the Cullen family. Dorothea, however, had already begun to feel the stirrings of hunger. It was then that Emmet, always in tune with his family's moods, spoke up. "Who's up for some hunting?" he asked, a playful grin on his face. His eyes danced with mischief. "I'm so hungry I could die here!" Emmett, as usual, was already whimpering about his own hunger, making the whole situation more dramatic than it needed to be.
"Oh, please, Em," Rosalie teased, rolling her eyes. "You're always hungry. You'd think you'd be used to it by now." Edward, ever the sarcastic one, gave his brother a pointed look before reluctantly agreeing to the hunt. "Fine, fine. But we leave in ten minutes, or I'll start hunting you instead."
When midnight arrived, the Cullens ventured into the forest to hunt. Dorothea, however, had her own plans. She preferred the solitude of the trees, the quiet that came with observing from a higher vantage point. With one fluid leap, she was in the branches, her dark eyes scanning the forest floor below as her family hunted with practiced precision. The thrill of the hunt was something she enjoyed, but tonight she was content to watch from a distance, her thirst quenched for now.
From above, she noticed something strange: three figures, moving swiftly through the forest. Her curiosity piqued, she watched as they came closer. Before she knew it, they had shifted into massive wolves, their eyes glowing with primal intensity.
The wolves—large, powerful creatures—came charging toward the Cullens, who stood their ground, unbothered. Dorothea, sensing the tension, focused on the situation unfolding below her. The men—wolves, she now realized—began calling the Cullens all sorts of derogatory names: bloodsuckers, leeches. Carlisle, ever the diplomat, immediately spoke up, trying to calm the situation.
"We do not drink human blood," Carlisle declared, his voice steady. "We do not wish to harm anyone. What we seek is peace, and we offer a treaty between our coven and your pack."
