Hate at First Bite: The Vampire King’s Hunted Witch

Light of early day reached Forks in faint, wavering lines. Faint glow. A trace of heat, barely there. Light slept under gray skies. As if dawn hesitated, caught between light and shadow. “Morning, Miss Angelica!” A figure shifted toward the sound, warmth spreading across her face. A quiet grin appeared when the greeting landed. A wave came from his fingers, lifting it slightly above the truck door. Though he arrived just twelve months back, folks linked him fast with Anna’s place — her crooked porch, her silent radio — and how he showed up when others forgot it existed. Few folks around Forks ever came near the aged woman living deep in the trees. Her presence stirred unease, so they stayed away without needing to speak of it. He didn’t own one. Not once. Ever. When Angelica showed up, he just slipped her into the group he kept an eye on. “Good morning,” Angelica replied warmly. “Feels like the sun’s being generous today.” For just a second, she turned her face up into the light. She loved sunlight. Though her system struggled to handle large amounts. Perhaps her past death made the difference. It could be the trip back from the City of Bones that shifted something deep within. Cool skin stayed that way, regardless of the weather, while strong sun often took what little energy she had. Stillness followed her now like a second shadow. Even so, mornings like these were her favorite. She found joy in them despite everything else. Forks felt oddly right in her hands. Gray clouds tamed the morning light. Rain fell without pause, draping the streets in a shimmering mist. Under that quiet cover, she found space to stay outside without needing more. Footsteps broke the stillness on the path to Charlie Swan’s place. Beneath the canopy, Angelica chose dirt over pavement, each step pressing softly into soil soaked by morning rain. Sunlight dripped between cedars, painting shifting coins on her arms. Gold speckled where shadows thinned. Almost, she felt heat touch the deepest part of her. Then it faded. Almost. Footsteps crunching on the gravel, she spotted Charlie wrestling a splintered trellis by the porch steps. The wood leaned sideways, resisting his grip as he shifted its weight. Sunlight caught dust rising from disturbed earth around the base. One loose plank slapped against the wall when he adjusted his stance. His hands were smeared with sap and dirt, fingers slipping slightly on damp surfaces. A crow cawed once from the roof above, then fell silent. She stopped short of speaking, watching how he braced one knee into the frame to steady it. Just before stepping through, Angelica paused by the gate. Not rushing forward, she waited a moment, choosing courtesy over entrance. “Sheriff Swan?” she called gently. “Sorry to bother you.” His eyes lifted fast. A trace of knowing lit up his worn features, delayed by just one heartbeat. “Oh right. Anna’s granddaughter…” His face changed suddenly. He scratched his neck, tired. Miss Angelica. My fault. A long breath came out slowly. Working too much these days “No offense taken.” She smiled easily. “Anna sent me to pick up the packages you were holding for her.” “The crates, right?” Charlie nodded. “Picked them up from the depot last week. Meant to drive them over sooner.” He glanced toward the house. “Bella can help you gather everything.” Just as he stepped off the porch, it hit him — Angelica hadn’t moved past the gate. A quiet grin tugged at her lips, eyes glinting with soft laughter. “May I come in?” One blink. A soft laugh followed, aimed inward. He found it funny — how he just sat there. “Of course. Sorry. Come on in.” A figure moved through the gate. Light touched her shoulders as she crossed the threshold. Wet earth filled the air, mixed with petals just opened. Nothing seemed too tidy, yet nothing felt out of order. It simply fit, like it had always been that way. Easy to settle into. Calm. It felt lived in. “Dad?” A figure stood still at the landing, just above the last step. The air shifted as she moved into view, framed by the hallway's dim light. Angelica looked up — That moment hit me like a wave crashing through glass. Power. Sleeping now. Still not stirred. Quiet, without motion. Yet a presence lingered near the girl. Not quite seen, hidden under the rhythm of her breath and skin. Potential. Raw and sleeping. "Hello," she spoke softly while stepping off the last stairs. "My name is Bella — Isabella Swan." “Angelica.” For a moment she paused, then spoke softly, almost to herself, “My first name is all that stays with me.” Bella frowned slightly. “My memory’s… incomplete.” A flicker of shame crossed Bella’s features right away. Just as she started to speak, Angelica moved her head slowly from side to side. “It’s alright. Really.” Bella paused, eyes fixed on her a moment longer. Out of nowhere, she moved ahead, arms wrapping around her. Angelica froze. Some folks just stayed away from witches. Not knowing the reason deep down. Yet Bella carried her with ease, a quiet warmth in every motion. Stillness settled around them as she moved — no pause, no second thought. Warmth came through not by force but because it had always been there. A soft warmth filled Angelica’s chest, lingering like morning light through curtains. It did not shout. Instead, it simply stayed — calm, uninvited, certain. A chill touched her awareness next. A strange pulse. Wrong. A furrow crept across Angelica's forehead. Bella noticed immediately. “What is it?” One moment passed before Angelica looked up, her eyes locking onto hers without a word. Her lips curled once more, quiet like a breath. A moment passed before the curve reached her eyes. “Would you show me the packages?” “Sure.” Bella moved ahead, guiding her upward on foot. Her beauty sat quietly, never shouting. Eyes the color of wet soil. Hair like old tree bark. Skin faded by months of gray skies and drizzle. Yet what stood out had nothing to do with looks. It was presence. Out of step with everyone else, Bella carried herself like a person unaware they’re unforgettable. A quiet pull surrounded her, not loud but steady. People noticed without meaning to, drawn by something unnameable. Her presence didn’t shout — it settled. Like a note held just long enough to change the room. Eighteen?” Angelica said, her voice light, almost curious. “Recently, yeah.” Bent low by the supply room, Bella began hauling out containers labeled with Anna’s name. Boxes came one after another, each tagged neatly, none left behind. From the dim corner where shadows pooled, she reached inside again. Dust clung to her sleeves as she shifted stack after heavy stack. “Sorry, there’s so much. Anna kept telling Dad to wait until everything arrived together.” Two crates. Several narrow boxes. Bella’s face shifted without warning. “There should be one more.” She searched another shelf. “A small black case with a cross carved on top. I swear I left it here.” “It’s alright,” Angelica said lightly. “Take your time.” Bella kept looking while Angelica ran her fingers across the boxes piled close by. A whisper of power slid into the grain. Yes. These were Anna’s. Yet her gaze returned to Bella once more. It wasn’t right, the way the air hummed near her. She felt it tugging at her skin like thread pulled too tight. Cold. Dark. Yet somehow alive. Unsettled by the mismatch, Angelica shifted her weight. A quiet discomfort took hold. Her energy vanished, suddenly as a light switched off. Heavy. Sudden. A quiet ache pulsed behind her eyes as she lowered herself into the chair. One hand rose, pressing gently at the spot just above her eyebrow. Hold still. For one breath. Her eyelids dropped shut. Everything faded away. The moment passed like a breath lost in wind. Beneath the sky, shadows stretched out. Stars stretch across the night. Quiet light dots far above. Dark space holds them gently. She knew this place. The meadow. The dream. A hush of air brushed the pale blades swaying below a dome packed tight with age-old star patterns. Above her, those lights crawled inch by inch, almost whispering in a tongue just out of reach. And there - Beneath the dark sky she stood — was him. The man from every dream. Standing high, still as stone. He did not turn. His back met her gaze. Each time she spotted him early on, her feet moved fast behind him. Then one moment she stood out — her breath caught while chasing his shape through the streetlight glow. Now she knew better. Always hidden, the dream kept his face away from her. Still… She had her suspicions. Jace. He was the one who yanked her away when death came calling. The love that lingered long after silence set in. A quiet sadness curled at the edges of her mouth when she stepped closer now, one foot after another. Stillness settled between them like dust before a storm. Closer now than at any point in the past. “Hello?” Slowly, the shape began to rotate. It moved after standing still for what felt like forever. And Angelica saw — nothing. “Hey. Hey, wake up.” Her thoughts snapped toward Bella's trembling words. A sharp pull, like a yank on an invisible thread. Angelica inhaled sharply. A sudden break, then just a single broken picture stayed in her thoughts. Light. Sharp and brilliant. Light spills, sharp and sudden, like a blade of sun on crystal. A single misstep pulsed through her chest. Something odd about premonition dreams — they skipped trivial stuff entirely. “You doing alright?” Bella said, voice low. “I’m fine.” Up she rose, a little at a time. Angelica. Bella sat with the tiny case resting on her palms. The dark object felt heavy even though it was light. “This what you were looking for?” A flicker of suspicion crossed Angelica's face as her gaze tightened. “Yes.” Out of nowhere, a chill filled the air when the lid was lifted. Cold light poured through as if time had split open. A blade lay within, still and hidden. Graceful, yet sharp enough to kill. Stunning, but not in a safe manner. A kind of loveliness that chills instead of warms. Beneath the glow, silver caught the eye first. Gold threads wove through the casing, tracing shapes that seemed almost alive. The blade had been blessed. Consecrated. Half out of its sheath, that was when Angelica pulled it. Bella recoiled. A tiny movement. Barely noticeable. Yet Angelica sensed it right away. Out of nowhere, shadows clinging to Bella exploded against the sacred blade. Not human. Definitely not human. Still, another thing stayed hidden underneath. Something new. Something fragile. Bella clapped a hand to her lips without warning. Nausea hit her hard. Her eyes locked on Angelica. She stood without moving. Something clicked inside her thoughts just then. “Bella,” she said softly. “Come here for a moment.” Bella hesitated. Only briefly. Her shoulders eased when the dagger slipped into the sheath. “What is it?” Out of nowhere, she reached forward. Her fingers stretched across the space between them. “Trust me.” Bella held her gaze on her own reflection, just for a stretched moment. Her fingers slid into Angelica’s open hand. Heat passed from one to the other without delay. Bella gasped quietly. Warmth spread through her bones, sudden and quiet. As if a long frost had cracked open beneath her skin. A flicker of stillness passed over Angelica’s face. Her eyelids dropped for just a moment. Faint shapes slipped through her mind. Fragments. A boy with golden eyes. Cold skin. Impossible love. Loyalty lives in the shadows. What seems true might cut deep. Her gaze shifted when she reopened her eyes, different now. Softened. “You love him very much,” she said quietly. Bella’s face flushed red right away. “And he loves you just as deeply.” Bella blinked, caught off guard at just how well she’d been understood. Then her eyes turned a little more focused. Now it made sense to her. The cold energy. The sickness. The contradiction inside Bella’s body. Breathing in slowly, Angelica spoke just in a whisper next “Does your boyfriend know you’re pregnant?” Bella's face turned pale all at once. Her skin lost its color like snow under shadow.