Falling for Royalty

Edward

My mind was abuzz as I shoved suitcase after suitcase haphazardly into the trunk of Carlisle's Mercedes, fighting to keep my annoyance from bubbling to the surface.

Three weeks ago, Alice had gotten a vision of our family receiving an invitation to a ball. And not just any ball. The Volturi - the closest thing vampires had to royalty - had invited anyone and everyone to this particular celebration of sorts. For what, I had no idea.

And as much as I'd wanted to, I, unfortunately, couldn't weasel myself out of going because:

a. Being on the Volturi's bad side was basically a death sentence.

And

b. Alice had a good feeling about us going to this ball. Something I'd learned to never question over the years.

Our family and the Denalis would be the only 'vegetarians' - or animal drinkers - at the ball, which made us all just a little uncomfortable, but it was still a way for us to socialize with our kind. Having spent the past four years around no one else but my family and the humans of Forks, Washington, it would be a pleasant change to greet some new faces.

Plus, there had to have been a few human-drinking vampires out there that didn't know another way of life, but would be open to the idea.

That, admittedly, was Carlisle's main reason for deciding to go - so that he could save a few vampires from living like monsters. Of course, he was also eager to catch up with his old friends, though it had been years since they'd even made contact with one another. Marcus, Caius, and Aro, the leaders of the Volturi - the Kings of the vampire world.

Carlisle had gone to them in the early days of being turned, living in their home – or palace, rather - for years on end, until he'd grown tired of the constant screaming from humans being drained, week after week. It was still difficult for us to grasp how he'd survived there for such a lengthy period of time in the first place. The way he'd described his stay had sent an unpleasant chill down my spine. I'd been haunted by those images ever since.

It was part of the reason I so dreaded our trip. We collectively hoped that the Volturi would at least be polite enough not to satiate their hunger in the castle while we were guests. Our stay was short, after all - only a week or two - so to have actual real-life cries attack my thoughts instead of the imaginary ones from Carlisle reiteration... well, that was something I wished to avoid altogether.

Going through a dark phase in my own life, I understood that human blood could be hard to resist, and that some vampires simply didn't have enough willpower to change their diet. But for me, that time in my life had long gone. The dull ache in my throat had subsided over the years, and I no longer had an overwhelming urge to drink human blood. I had, after all, once been human, so I didn't particularly enjoy 'the kill', no matter how vile the human.

As I slid into the backseat, I let out a long, drawn-out sigh, already anticipating what the ball would be like.

These events never failed to exhaust me, from the forced conversations to the persistent flirting I was never able to avoid - that particular prospect was the main reason I avoided social gatherings whenever I could. Being a mind reader didn't exactly help the situation either.

But I was outnumbered – I could either whine all day, or live with the fact that I couldn't possibly get out of going on this trip. At this point in time, I decided to be mature about it.