I wasn't sure where he should sleep, so I just let him take my bed. There was a guest bedroom, which always made me laugh, so I guess I would sleep there. Why switch though? Well, my monster was feeling overly territorial. It- we wanted to sacrifice any and everything for him; and plus my scent would be all over him. I also didn't trust myself in a bed with him for multiple reasons. Just thinking about how I was acting was crazy to me; I was acting like Edward...in multiple ways.

By the time I finished a chapter of an old Nancy Drew book, he was fast asleep. I hated to admit it, but I watched him for awhile. The slow up and down of his chest, matching the light thud of his heart. The way he smiled a little as REM state produce a dream; obviously a happy one. What suprised me though was how he muttered my name here and there, then smiled. Before I knew it, I was brushing fiery strands of his hair off his forehead, letting my fingertips linger. I chuckled softly before kissing his forehead sweetly. My heart stilled though when he moaned before rolling over and hugging a stray pillow.

I jolted backwards, that one little sound having my body braced for the shift. It took all the human in me to restrain myself into turing off the lights and walking away. As soon as the door closed, I made a beeline for the fridge, pilfering through its contents until I found a bag of blood. My fangs were elongated, ready to viciously rip through plastic to get to the delicious, thick, red liquid.

A pounding on the door stopped me. I snarled in frustration, but I didn't get to approach the door before it slammed open, crashing against the wall and knocking down picture frames. The shift was so instinctive that I almost didn't notice, until my red eyes snapped to the bag in my hand. I ripped it apart, blood spraying in every direction. I licked what remained in the plastic before cleaning my hands, intruders forgotten.

"St-stop," a weak voice rasped, sounding like Jackson. I squeezed my eyes shut tight, but even in the darkness I didn't see black. It was all red. I tried to shift, but the monster wouldn't let me, so instead I stomped it down with the same aggression leading my wild actions until my mind was clear once again. This kind of restrain is rare amongst my kind and even with no one teaching me, I mastered it; well that was until Alaric came along.

I eventually willed myself to shift, my red eyes dulling back to normal and fangs retracting. My senses remained heightened as I was still on high alert.

My eyes snapped open as a delicious smell greeted my nose. It smelled better than the taste of blood I realized, which had crackes forming in my newly attained composer. The smell was a combination of hazelnut, oranges, and mint. I tried to pinpoint it but there were multiple scents entangled with-

"Who the hell are you?" I snarled at no one in particular because there was two men holding up an unconscious Jackson then another guy supported Julian's weight. It might have sounded rude, but I was honestly just beyond shocked to see someone other than the two men I lived my whole life with- plus Alaric now...kind of.

"Does it matter?" One of the guys holding Jackson up grunted as he adjusted my still unresponsive father. He was right, but even being so I wanted to snap at the white haired man, no older than me.

The only thing holding my tongue was the condition my family was in. I rushed to Jackson first, tears burning and bluring. "The couch," I directed before rushing off to get the medical kit. While upstairs, I checked on Alaric. He was still fast asleep, a slight frown now on his face. I forced myself to focus on the more important task, rushing back downstairs.

Kneeling before him, I looked over Jackson's battered body. "You broke your promise. You're not whole," I whispered to him, my voice cracking. I gently ran my fingers down his swollen cheek, not able to contain the shake of my hand or the salty tears.

They had been in a fight, there was no denying it. I was pretty sure it wasn't with these guys though because why beat the shit out of someone then take them home. It all didn't make sense. Plus they didn't look like they had witnessed or felt what Jackson was capable of. He was getting old though and Julian still had a lot to learn.

Who else could there possibly be out there?

"We found them like this in an abandoned gas station about 50 miles east of here," a tall guy, jet black hair slicked to the side neatly, spoke softly. He approached us slowly, as if I would scurry away or attack.

When I sniffled, I caught a strong wiff of that intoxicating, mouth watering smell again. It was coming from him I realized, but I didn't pause to think about what this could mean. I just let him come closer until he was kneeling next to me, helping me patch Jackson up. Everytime our hands touched, there were sparks, but I ignored it out of distress.

"H-he," Julian coughed violently, "he saved me J-June. I- I couldn't... June I- I'm so sorry." He sobbed lowly. My tears ran faster than I could wipe away as I listened to him struggle for words. Jackson was still unresponsive, his pulse barely detachable. Standing on shaky legs, I rushed over to where my brother sat. A guy with sandy blonde hair just below his chin finished up wrapping Julian's seemingly broken left arm. My arms wrapped around his neck in a light hug. I was about to ramble on about how it wasn't his fault when I heard multiple growls then a slam, followed by a howl of pain. My head snapped around to the white hair guy who had Alaric by the throat.

"Found ya."