Lightning cracked through the sky as Alice stood confidently on the pitcher's mound, her stance precise and feline. Thunder masked the sound of bat meeting ball as Rosalie slammed it into the trees with a deafening crack. She took off, dirt kicking up behind her as she sprinted toward second.
Edward moved like a streak of silver. He disappeared into the trees, reemerging with the ball just in time to fire it back—fast, accurate, infuriatingly perfect.
"Out," Bella called, barely above a whisper.
Rosalie's jaw clenched. She didn't argue, but her eyes flashed with frustration. Her heart wasn't in the game tonight. Not with him elsewhere, caught between girls who didn't deserve to touch his shadow.
Laughter echoed as Emmett slammed a pitch into the clouds. Even Esme joined in, cheering. But Rosalie was cold. Detached. The only crack in her façade was the way she kept glancing east—toward Forks.
Then it happened.
The wind shifted.
Every Cullen went still. Carlisle was at bat, but the tension in his frame said he sensed it too.
From the forest, three figures emerged—barefoot, wild-eyed, clothes slightly tattered. James, Victoria, and Laurent.
"We mean no harm," Laurent said smoothly, palms raised. "We're just passing through."
Carlisle stepped forward. "We're playing a game."
James grinned, head twitching slightly as if sniffing the air. "We heard. Thought we'd investigate the thunder."
Esme forced a smile. "You're welcome to watch."
Alice stepped forward suddenly, her eyes narrowing.
She had seen him before.
James.
Back when her memories were fragmented—shackled by pain and confusion in that asylum—she remembered his scent. He was there once. A hunter. A blur. A terror.
Edward stood close to Bella now, shielding her with his body.
James tilted his head, nostrils flaring.
Then he smiled, slow and wolfish. "Interesting."
Edward's hand closed around Bella's. "We need to leave."
"Something wrong?" Victoria asked, playing coy.
Edward didn't answer. The Cullen siblings closed ranks.
Then Carlisle spoke with gentle finality, "You said you were heading east?"
Laurent nodded. "We'll be gone by morning. Don't worry."
But James didn't break eye contact with Bella.
Not until the others pulled him back and they vanished into the trees.
Edward, stone-faced, whispered, "He caught her scent. He knows."
The game had just begun.
Minutes later…
As the nomads slipped back into the forest, Victoria let herself lag behind. The others wouldn't notice. Not yet.
She paused beside a tree, tilted her head slightly… and breathed in again.
There it was.
Not the brown haired human. Not a deer. Not even blood in the traditional sense.
This was different—warm, electric, like heat off skin after a storm.
It stirred something in her chest, in her teeth.
Mouth-watering.
She closed her eyes for just a second. Whoever it was—it wasn't part of the Cullen coven. The scent had clung to the blonde girl, faintly. Too faint for others to have noticed. But Victoria had.
Masculine, young, wild… but strangely disciplined. Like a flame trapped in glass.
Victoria licked her lips slowly, she wouldn't know the name yet—but the scent… it was carved into her mind now.
Like a mark.
Not prey. Not yet.
But interesting.
Very, very interesting.