Forbidden

~Chapter Thirty-Two~

A/N: I feel rather accomplished. Here I am, one day later, updating this AGAIN. WOO! :-D Did I keep you in suspense long enough? No? Well, darn...*snaps fingers in faux disappointment*

Anyhoo, this chapter is dedicated to the lovely LurvecurlsXx! She is a wonderful interweb friend of mine. In a short summary, she's sweet, smart, talented, and beautiful in every way. She's such a strong person. She's going through a tough time right now, but she's never once complained or whined about it; she's only been thankful for the good things that have happened. I admire her for that: for her courage and strength, and the way that she lights up the world of everyone around her. :-) Sofie, I won't share what's going on if you don't want me to, but stay strong, girlie. I love you! <3

To the right is the lovely Sean Flynn. You know him as Ethan Reeding, who appears briefly in this chapter. :-)

ENJOY!!!! THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT!!!

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~Chapter Thirty-Two~

Arabella rolled onto her side, stifling another sob. Welcome sunlight swirled through the windowpane, putting an end to the long, suffocative night. She reached forth a tentative hand, letting it linger in the light, her pale skin gratefully soaking up the warmth. She waited, impatient, as the sunlight snaked up her arms and split into two, darting quickly to the tips of her toes, but sinuously meandering on its route to her mind. She closed her bloodshot eyes, feeling her eyelashes scratch the rings of red on her flesh, and prepared to feel the euphoric power sunlight brought to her kind.

            But it didn’t come. Though Arabella felt the light swarm her mind, enveloping the whole of her head, nothing happened. The familiar happiness didn’t arrive; the usual cheery wave didn’t wash over her. Arabella pulled her hand back from the sun, gulping heavily. She opened her eyes again, allowing her gaze to rake over the windows in front of her face, deciphering what time it was: 5:30 am. She inhaled shakily, her exhale coming out as a half-relieved, half-strangled sigh. If it was that early in the morning, then the Elliots were surely asleep. She would be able to slip out unnoticed, leaving a note for River in her place.

            Pushing herself up, Arabella scraped at the salty tracks on her cheeks, imperfect jagged runs aligned with her skin. She had spent the whole of the night crying, never tiring of replaying the scene in her head, letting her sobs close off her throat, obscure her breathing patterns. Why, Griffin? She let the thought slip through her mind. Why did you have to ruin everything…right when it was perfect?

            I didn’t ruin it, Bella, an irate voice replied. It was you. We couldn’t have you hanging onto that pitiful mortal, now, could we? You were growing too attached; it wasn’t safe. We’ll find some way to bring him back. They—the word was spoken acidly, as if Griffin had taken a taste of an overly-sour lemon; Arabella felt her own rush of bitterness race through her veins—obviously won’t get them. They’re not smart enough.

            She didn’t respond. Instead, Arabella lifted herself off the bed, ignoring the continuance of Griffin’s tirade. Eventually, he would tire of lecturing to a dead audience, and would leave her thoughts alone. In addition, Arabella’s mate just didn’t understand. It wasn’t losing she was worried about, though it should have been her top priority. No, it was the hurt.

            Go away.

            That was what he had told her.

            Die. Evaporate. Whatever it is that you do, do it.