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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"Stop! Her blood is clean, you're killing her!" Carlisle's voice rang out, but Edward didn't hear. He was lost to the bloodlust, sucking harder, deeper, as if desperate to drain her completely. It wasn't hunger anymore—it was anguish, a ravenous need that drowned out all reason.
He wanted to stop. He tried to stop. But the blood pulled him, irresistible. His mind screamed for control, but it was slipping further away with each passing second.
Bella's eyes met his, blurry and full of something unspoken, something forgiving, as she began to lose consciousness. She wasn't afraid. She trusted him, even at this moment, even as he was killing her.
Alice, unable to bear the sight any longer, watched as the intensity in Edward's eyes deepened, like a wild animal caught in a trap. The scent of Bella's blood filled the air, thick and intoxicating. Alice could feel herself slipping, the urge to give in rising. With a quiet gasp, she turned and fled, not wanting to lose herself in the chaos.
Dorothea watched it all unfold, but unlike Alice, she didn't flinch. She saw Edward losing himself in his primal instincts, and she knew that if someone didn't act, Bella wouldn't survive.
In a blur of motion, Dorothea stepped forward.
Roughly, she grabbed Edward by the neck, her fingers tightening around his throat, not in a way that would kill him, but enough to send a shock through his system. The force of her touch sent him reeling backward, crashing into the shards of broken glass that littered the floor.
Her voice was cold, cutting through the madness, "Snap out of it, Edward."
Her abilities flared, and with a brutal, calculated force, she slammed him into the ground, forcing him into a deep, almost unnatural slumber. It wasn't an easy thing to do—Edward wasn't weak—but Dorothea wasn't to be underestimated. She may not have the raw physical strength of Dean or Jasper, nor the title of the coven's enforcer like Emmet, but she was formidable in her own right.
Raised by the Volturi, particularly by Aro, they had made sure she wasn't just a princess to be protected. She was a weapon.
Carlisle stood frozen for a moment, his gaze flickering from Dorothea's forceful restraint of Edward to the faint, ragged beat of Bella's heart. "I need to get her to a hospital, quickly," Carlisle murmured, his voice urgent, but calm.
"I'll manage him," Dorothea replied, her tone cool despite the chaos. She didn't flinch, didn't hesitate. She only glanced at the unconscious form of Edward, sprawled among the broken glass. His wound was healing at a slow pace, but he'd be alright.
Carlisle nodded, not questioning her before he scooped Bella into his arms and dashed off at vampire speed toward the hospital.
As the adrenaline faded, Dorothea collapsed to the floor, the weight of the situation catching up with her. A headache pulsed behind her eyes, the strain of using her abilities too much. She turned her head slightly, her gaze falling on Edward, still unconscious, his body slowly healing itself from the injuries she'd inflicted.
