Goddess of Beauty
God of War
Florence Beaumont is forced out of New Orleans when her parents are killed in a hit and run, it's a miracle she survived. Now she just feels empty and lost.
Florence arrives in the sleepy town of Forks around the same...
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Flames engulf the huge stone castle, burning any remaining reminders of the once powerful family.
A family of blood wars. A family of feuds. A family torn apart by those beyond the shadows.
Kneeling beside the burning castle stands a shadow, dead eyes reflecting the red abd orange dancing flames.
"House Beaumont... forgotten in the flames of the past."
Present
Florence's POV
I don't know why but I understand him but I can't find it in me to respond in the sane tongue. His eyes, as red as the blood which flows through my veins and yet as familiar as the distant memory of my past.
"Not hiding..." I mutter and manage to push him away. I don't know where this reckless behaviour is coming from but I don't feel threatened by this vampire. "They just don't feel the need to make my existence public knowledge."
I can see he's shocked not only at my answer but my actions.
"Your name?"
His accent is thick, sounding Italian and French but centuries old. I could be wrong. I keep staring at his eyes. They are unnerving at how familiar they seem. Like they stare through my soul.
"Florence..." I mutter and cross my arms over my chest. "And yours?"
He simply stares at me until a smirk appears on his lips. He pushes away from the wall and wonders through the living room. He doesn't answer me. I huff and narrow my eyes.
"I'm guessing you're a few centuries old but I'm guessing you were taught basic manners."
I follow him, not in the mood for a random vampire in my house ignoring me. I already have my vampire boyfriend who is ignoring me. Damn... I actually need to call Jasper. He should probably know of this random vampire in my home.
"Don't even think about it."
Shocked back into the moment I look up. This vampire is holding my phone in his vampire. I immediately panic.
"Don't break it... I won't call anyone"
It's petty to care so much about a phone but... I'm a teenager.
He scoffs and drops it onto the couch.
"Your name?" I repeat with my arms crossed over my chest. I stare at him in the same way my father use to look at my aunt when scolding her.
He smirks at me but nods. "Matteo... Volturi."
I narrow my eyes at him. I then notice his attire. A floor length black cloak, a black button up and trousers. A red metal medallion hangs over his chest.
