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I could hear Carlisle and my Grams talking to one another, their voices crystal clear in my ears as if they were standing right beside me. The conversation carried on, oblivious to my internal struggle within. I found myself pacing back and forth, trying desperately to suppress the gnawing hunger, the unrelenting thirst, and the vivid memory of blood's taste lingering on my tongue.
The scent of human blood was far more intoxicating than that of any animal. It consumed my senses, pushing me to the brink of control. It took every ounce of strength I had not to storm into the room and drain her dry. If she had been a stranger, just another human with no ties to me, I feared I wouldn't have had the restraint to stop myself.
And that frightened the hell out of me...
"She wants to see you," Emmett said, his voice steady but gentle. I froze mid-step, lifting my head to meet his gaze, my eyes wide with hesitation.
"I... I can't," I stammered, the words barely forming as I wrestled with my instincts. Facing her felt impossible, not because I didn't want to, but because her blood was an overwhelming temptation. "How did you do it?" I asked, my voice shaking as I arched an eyebrow at him. His frown deepened for a moment, his silence making me press further. "How did you have me so close? Always beside you, and not lose control... not drain me dry?" My willpower was stretched thin, tested beyond anything I could have imagined.
Emmett's gaze softened; his eyes full of understanding as he stepped closer to me. "It wasn't easy," he admitted, his voice low but steady. "Every second, every breath you took, it tested me. Your scent was... intoxicating. But I loved you more than I wanted your blood. That love became stronger than the hunger. It had to."
He reached out, placing a hand gently on my shoulder. "It's not about willpower alone, it's about focus, about knowing what matters more. You mattered more, Charlotte. You always did. And that's what kept me in control." His words struck a chord deep within me, and the panic that had been bubbling inside began to ease, softening its grip on me.
"I didn't know," I admitted softly, my voice tinged with sadness. The thought of him always having to maintain such rigid control, constantly battling his thirst to avoid a moment of regret, weighed heavily on me.
"I never wanted you to," he replied, his tone gentle. His hand slid from my shoulder to my cheek, his thumb brushing tenderly against my skin in a gesture that soothed the ache in my chest.
I couldn't help but lean into his touch, closing my eyes briefly, as I allowed his soft hands to calm me. For a moment, the hunger seems to fade, replaced by the comfort of his unwavering support.
"I don't know if I'll ever have that strength," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "To control it, to not let the craving take over..." My gaze dropped, guilt gnawing at me, as were as a mental image of hurting my Grams.
