Edward's Diary

Hell Breaks Loose

Dear diary,

Two weeks later, all hell broke loose.

What fools we had been—Carlisle and I. After Leah and Alistair’s conversation and his subsequent musings, Carlisle and I had set upon ourselves the task of coming up with theories as to why Alistair had been thinking that way. Carlisle had eventually become hopeful that there might be a chance for the two after all.

He thought that because Leah was menopausal and could not have kids, it didn’t matter who she imprinted on. Her physiology worked differently than Jacob or Seth’s. Maybe that was why she had imprinted on Alistair, because the prerequisite mating and reproducing factor had already been scratched. But there were still other issues, like vampire venom, and our physical incompatibility with wolves and shape-shifters.

That all, of course, went to hell when Alistair discovered the truth.

He and Leah had been doing relatively well, by which I mean that they were on polite talking terms. Alistair was still a bit leery about being near the wolves. Leah, however, was probably the only one of the lot with whom he could carry a decent conversation. Not to mention his company had done wonders for Leah. She was still dreading the coming days, but having him near her made her a little relaxed and forget her current predicaments.

She had, unfortunately, not expected Alistair to walk in on the same moment that she had been professing her love for him to Katherine. Alistair had been out for a hunt and was not to be back for a few hours. But what can we say about cruel, divine intervention—he was sated earlier than usual that day. Therefore, he came back, only to overhear Leah and Katherine talking in the living room.

Contrary to what we had been expecting, he did not explode. He accused Leah neither of manipulation nor deceit.

He simply refused her.

 

LEAH

 

“Alistair!” I ran after him as he stormed out of Katherine’s house. Dear God, what had I done?! Why couldn’t I control myself? It had all been so good with him lately. Why did my filthy mouth and I have to ruin everything?

“Alistair, wait!” I screamed. Somewhere in the background I could hear Katherine call out for me and then for Mark.

“Alistair, stop! Listen to me! Please!” I saw his retreating form and pushed my legs harder. I could not afford phasing right now. I desperately wished for him to stop so I could undo what I had done, mend fate’s torn tapestry.

I shouted out to the Gods in glee when he paused. Thank you, thank you, thank you so much.

“Alistair, wait . . .” I reached him, out of breath, heaving and sore. My legs felt like they had run a million miles, and my mind felt like it still had a long way to go.

“Was this your scheme all along? Did you want to do this to me?” It was only at these words that I looked up to his eyes and saw the only things I feared. Gone was the slight sarcastic amusement that he so effortlessly projected, or the wholesome humor that dripped from his irises. His eyes were now a dark shade of crimson—anger, hurt, confusion and caution was lucid in his expression.

“What? What are you—?” I started to say, but he cut me off.

“Was this what you wanted to do? Why did you do this?” he asked me.

“Alistair, you’ve got it down wrong!” I tried to explain, “It’s not intentional. It’s never intentional! It just . . . happened! That’s what we do, that’s what has always happens! We don’t chose who we love! Fate chooses them for us! We have no control over it!”