Chapter 17:
Call Me By My Name

Edward's room was bright. A bookshelf filled with stories and music records across from wide windows with no shades or curtains. It made the room feel bigger. There was no bed, just a chair and a vintage rug that covered the center of the floor.

Hunter would never decorate her room like this, but Edward was from another century. She often forgot about his age. His flawless skin and full of color hair made her dismiss the hundreds of years he had on.

It felt a bit airless in his room with the balcony doors shut and the classical music playing. That was one thing they clashed on, music taste. Hunter was more into the 70's classic rock and alternative rock. Music was supposed to make her feel like she was floating when she closed her eyes, like it was levitating her into another dimension.

It was supposed to make her forget about the world.

All she could hear now were instruments that told no story, sounds that didn't make her feel better. She didn't want to be closed minded but classical music were nails on a chalkboard for her.

Her hands caressed the material of the chair as she listened. The chair was soft and smooth, the smallest bumps on the designs scratched softly at her hands and a frown sat on her face.

Edward watched her from the radio. He released low chuckles from time to time, her distaste for the sounds being close to comedy. He knew she'd be different as opposed to Bella, who was willing to try anything for him. Hunter liked challenging others and disagreeing. It was something Edward loved.

He reached over and clicked pause, the music halting and Hunter's attention flying onto him. She was beautiful as always. With her hair sitting above her shoulders and her eyes glimmering in the light. Even with her onyx eyes, he felt like he was floating.

   "Finally realized how bad this is?" Hunter joked, moving around the chair and taking a seat. She couldn't explain how she found herself in his room. He spoke to her in a tone that hypnotized her and the rest was a blur.

Edward inhaled and slid the CD back into it's case, "It soothes me. The soft instruments transitioning to a loud and intense sound, it lets my imagination run wild."

The CD case slid back into the shelf with ease, as if it gravitated to it's designated spot. Edward did the same and crossed the room to her side. Their eyes danced it's usual dance as he sat beside her. Faces inches apart, so close their breaths danced too.

Hunter shuffled, "What can you even think about while listening to that?" Her hands ran over her arms. She was holding back shivers underneath his stare. When it came to crushes, she was almost never nervous.

Edward sighed, "Well, I think about dancing or painting, sometimes hunting. Other times I think of you." His eyes never left her's. He couldn't bare to.

The process of them being together was taking too long. The restraint they needed to have for the sake of Bella's healing was too much. Hunter wanted so desperately to be happy but it was beginning to feel like that would never happen.

Edward on the other hand, felt angry. He would often replay his arguments with Bella and hate himself even more. He felt regret for breaking the newborn's heart but he felt even more regret for not realizing Hunter was the one for him.

   "I'd rather you not associate me with classical music." Hunter snickered, watching a smile work onto his face. They felt at ease yet chaotic. It was hell having a space between them.

Silence fell and it was comfortable. At the moment they didn't think about the bad things in their life.

Edward let his hand reach over to her face and pushed the stray strand that always hung loose, back behind her ear. He could list a handful of things that he loved about Hunter, from her hair to the way she frowned whenever she thought about something.

   "I love you." He told her. His voice was sure and low, and it made Hunter shiver. He's said that before but it felt almost the same as then. It was electric and whimsical, it was hard to wrap her head around.

She couldn't open her mouth to respond, though her mind and heart were screaming the words to her. She felt lost in his eyes, caught up in the feelings and thoughts that ran through her. But there were bad thoughts too, one's that scared her into silence.

Edward didn't seem bothered by her lack of response. He could see tears bunching up in her eyes and it was enough.

A throat was cleared and their attention left each other. "Sorry to interrupt." Carlisle stood by the doorway, his hands shoved in his pockets and his arms covered in the white trench coat of a doctor's. His eyes were knowing and they showed no judgement, but it didn't make her feel any less guilty.

    "Carlisle, what is it?" Edward asked, concern in his voice. His attire made the pale boy nervous, as would anyone.

   "I have an appointment with Hunter." Carlisle spoke. Hunter immediately frowned. She hasn't spoken to Carlisle in some time much less schedule a meeting with him about her health.

Her teeth graze her bottom lip as she stood up, Edward's frightful eyes watching her intently. He had a right to be afraid, anything could be wrong with Hunter. He couldn't even think about losing her again.

"It won't take long." Carlisle added, sending his son a reassuring smile. Edward gulped quietly and nodded his head, trusting his foster father.

Hunter exhaled deeply. The expression on Carlisle's face told her that something was wrong, but she followed him into the cold hallway nonetheless. Their shoes echoed on the hardwood floors and it sent shivers down her spine.

His unnatural silence filled the already tense air and she began to grow agitated. "I never scheduled an appointment." She spoke with clenched fists.

Carlisle stopped just before his office and turned to face her, "I know. But I did." He held out his hand towards the door, gesturing her to go in. Hunter held her chin up and entered.

Just stepping into the office made her breathing rapid and shallow. She could feel her pulse pounding in her temples and the sharpness of her nails digging into her palms. She didn't feel like anything was wrong with her, but it didn't make her any less afraid.

She sat in a chair and exhaled. It smelled of freshly printed papers and ink. She could even smell the fading metallic smell of Bella's blood from birth. Being in this room didn't feel safe and assuring, it felt like sadness.

Carlisle shuffled through folders and papers with his eyebrows furrowed. "So, how are you Hunter?" He began with his back turned to her.

Hunter could laugh at the question. He knew exactly how she was, starving and guilty, miserable and decaying. She was anything but okay. "Why am I here?" she asked rather than answering. She didn't have time for small talk, nor did she want to commence in one.

Carlisle sighed and leaned back onto his desk, the right papers in his hands, "Have you eaten anything at all these past few weeks?"

The stinging in her palms continued. Just the thought of indulging blood made her anxious and angry. "No. Not really. Nothing is appetizing these days." She mumbled.

"Get any sleep?" He asked again after scribbling on the papers.

Hunter shook her head, "Maybe one night of sleep once a week." The leather chair she sat in clamped at her sweating thighs and grew uncomfortable as the time ticked by. It has only been a few minutes but it ached as if it's been years.

"And the heat?" Carlisle asked again, keeping his eyes on the papers. Hunter could feel her blood run cold. She remembered the night clearly, the night she almost relapsed. The night Edward saved her.

"Cured." She answered after clearing her throat. The silence that followed was unwanted. Her innards twisted and grumbled, and a bile crawled up her throat, threatening to spill out.

Carlisle clicked his pen closed and plopped the papers onto his desk, "You're severely malnourished Hunter. You need to feed."

Hunter kept her hands clenched at her sides, "I can't. I can't take animal blood." Even though she couldn't take it, it still sounded appealing. Any kind of blood sounded appealing.

"You can't take it because your body became dependent on human blood, but you can change that if you just try." Carlisle advised. His tone held no judgment but it wasn't enough for her.

"Don't listen to him, child."

Hunter's eyes darted to the corner behind Carlisle. Willow stood there, glaring holes into the doctor's back. Her dark hair tumbled down to her hips and a wicked smile played at her lips.

Hunter wanted to scream, to finally show everyone that she wasn't crazy. But Carlisle's lack of reaction to her voice proved that the Volturi vampire wasn't there at all.

"Human blood is a vampire's right. Don't let them scare you into submission."

Carlisle sighed, "Without blood, you're weak and vulnerable to all sorts of things. We need you, you know. You're important. You're family."

The foreign words struck her like lightning. She assumed Carlisle was disappointed in her for her previous actions but he was here trying to help her. As opposed to the woman in the corner.

"He's wrong again. You're my family."

Carlisle stiffened and he glanced down at her hands. Blood seeped from the crevices of her fingers and dripped onto the floors, it was small drops but it still mattered. He cleared his throat and motioned to her hands.

Hunter glanced down and paled, "Oh. I'm-"

"It's alright. I'll clean it up." Carlisle assured, a small smile hugging his face as usual. "How's that scar?" Hunter peered down at her arm and winced at the claw marks tearing across her tan skin.

She nearly forgot about the pack fight, but she could never forget the anger in Sam's eyes that night. The scar wasn't healing and she wasn't sure if it ever would. It'll continue to be a reminder of her bad decisions.

"Well it's ugly and it isn't going away anytime soon, so." Hunter sighed, getting up from the seat and moving towards the door.

Carlisle bent down and wiped up the blood in a napkin, his nostrils flaring at the half werewolf scent. "An alpha's mark can last for centuries."

Hunter cringed. She would have to live with Sam's claw marks on her, a sign that she was a betrayer. If there was a way to reverse it or heal it, she would have to go back to the reservation.

She would have to talk to Sam.

___

The tall and dark trees spiked into the night sky. It was so dark, a human would barely see where they were going. But Hunter could see clear as day. There were only small sounds of rustling bushes and the howl of the wind. She counted on those sounds.

It's been so long since she's hunted down an animal; she didn't miss it. She could spot them easily, the deer prancing absentmindedly around the dark forest floor, the owls standing stoically on branches, and even the coyotes that crouched low on the ground.

None were meals she actually wanted but they would have to do. She had to get her mother out of her head. Her black boots fell to the ground quietly as she circled the prey. A strong male deer chewed on the grass beneath it's hooves, his ears pointed upwards and his eyes glancing quickly.

This one was smart, but Hunter was smarter. She moved from behind the tree and in a flash, she tackled the deer to the ground and quickly sunk her teeth into it's neck. The fur tickled her nose and the blood tasted bitter.

The deer groaned and struggled, it's strong legs kicking at the air. Hunter grunted as it's antlers banged into her head. She fell onto her side and the deer escaped her grasp. Blood spilled from her mouth and stained her shirt as she struggled to gain her vision again.

"Shit." She groaned. Almost instantly, she was paler than a sheet of paper and lathered in sweat. Hunter felt nauseous just at the smell of the deer blood that coated her chin and chest.

She knew she couldn't do it. Her body hated it. Hunter climbed onto her hands and knees, and an awkward burp rumbled from her throat. Her stomach twisted anxiously and another string of groans slipped from between her lips.

The pain had to be equivalent to death. She gagged every few seconds while her brain felt like it was swelling well beyond the capacity of her skull. Now her hunger was too strong to ignore. But with the bile that squiggled back up her throat, feeding was the last thing on her mind.

Then it happened. The blood she had just consumed climbed up her throat and splattered onto the ground. The red substance was putrid and it only made her stomach angrier.

Hunter heaved and heaved until she couldn't see anymore. Her eyes coated with tears and the sweat that dripped down her face. She would sob if she could. Each gag hurted more than the last but she went until there was nothing left in her stomach.

Her coughing ceased and she crawled away from the puddle of blood that exited her. She couldn't try like Carlisle wanted her to. It was painful to even hold it down. It felt like the blood itself hated her guts.

She sniffled and leaned against the tree. She wanted to scream as loud as she could, break a tree, or run away. She would run away and feed on as many people as she wanted. But she couldn't. She just couldn't.

"I told you, stupid girl." There she was again, towering over her and glaring. "You aren't like them. Whether you like it or not, you are a villain."

Hunter shook her head, "I'm not— I'm not a villain."
The darkness of the woods made her feel even crazier. Her mother was standing in front of her. She existed and she was there. But only in her mind.

Willow Reed was a master manipulator but Hunter already learned her lesson. "You are! Look at you, you can't even hold down ordinary animal blood. You are dying again and that's because you're letting these people hold you back. They are shaming you."

"Killing innocent people is wrong." Hunter spit, her limbs limp and numb. She hated this, she hated being vulnerable.

"Lions kill other innocent animals and yet no one stops them." Willow retorted, "You need to wake up and realize your potential. They are afraid of you."

Hunter scoffed, "Finally, we agree on something."

Willow circled the tree Hunter sat against, her red eyes twinkling in the moonlight with mischief. "They fear you because you're the strongest and rarest creature to exist."

Her figure was like a ghost, gliding across the ground with ease and suspense. Hunter listened, it was the only thing she could do. Her body was too tired to move and she sensed no danger.

"A teenaged girl born with a werewolf gene so strong, it stayed alive even when she was dead." Willow mused. She bent down to Hunter's level and finally connected their eyes. Hunter felt like crying. Her mother was beautiful and everything her father described her to be, but she was a waste. She was evil and conniving. She didn't care for Hunter at all, only power.

"A hybrid that can move things with her mind." Willow whispered. Her pale hand reached out slowly, itching to remove the stray strand from Hunter's cheek, but the girl moved out of her reach.

Hunter glared holes into her mother, not letting any of her words seep into her mind. Willow sighed, "You've seen what others do to you." She eyed the scar on Hunter's arm and raised her eyebrows, "I can only imagine how many wars you'll start when you rise to your full potential."

"You don't know anything." Hunter seethed, her hands in fists once again. The blood that stained her skin was still dripping and the breeze sent a chill to her bones.

Willow stood up, "I know everything, child. I know that you're consumed with guilt and that you and your clan are weak."

"What are you-"

"The blood your covered in tells me all I need to know." Willow snapped, "Stop holding yourself back, Hunter. Cause when we hit, we hit hard and I would hate to see you become a memory just because you decided to be a hero."

Hunter's frown deepened when her mother disappeared. She was left alone in the dark woods, hungry and in pain. But that was the least of her worries. She heard her own name slip out from her mother's lips for the first time in her life.

She called her Hunter.