This is just a random idea that popped into my head. You don't have to like it. Renesmee is a pain to write

PREFACE

The sky overhead was dark as pitch, dark as their hearts, threatening to cave in and end the goodness. The stars were but tiny pinpricks in the darkness, almost invisible, almost overtaken by the black.

It was still. Too still.

She shivered. It was cold under the trees around the clearing. But she barely noticed the cold. That kind of thing had never bothered her. What bothered her was the pack of people crouched in the clearing in front of her – people she hated, and people she loved.

Especially him.

She watched him anxiously; the one she loved the most. He crouched, a blur of russet and silken fur. He growled, the most magical sound – the one that sang her to sleep, the one that kept her from harm.

Around her, pale white bodies crouched in defense, hissing and snapping. All of them here, protecting her. It was too much. They were at risk.

Her heart hurt.

The danger was there, in the flashing red eyes, in the predatory stances. Her heart beat faster, and the bronze-haired one glanced at her in concern.

He shouldn't be protecting her. Not him. Not the one who had already gone through so much for her. But, selfish as she was, she couldn't even think of him. She couldn't tear her eyes off the colossal wolf that stood between the bronze-haired man and the brown-haired woman.

This was wrong.

A flash of fur, a snapping of bones, a high-pitched squealing sound. Blurs of motion, too fast for her half-mortal eyes to follow. They stung with tears, hot, wet, terrifying.

A howl, one she knew too well. It went straight to her heart. It broke her. The sound cut off and she knew all was lost.

An explosion of sound, of growls, of snaps, of metallic screeches. The blur of the clearing picked up to a frenzy of motion, fighting to the death, fighting to the end. She didn't bother to try to pick out who was winning, who was dying.

Did it even matter who made it out anymore? Now that he was gone.

Gone. Gone. Gone. He couldn't be gone. He'd been her everything all this time. He had done everything for her, been everything for her, had protected her to the very last minute. And what had she done for him? Broken his heart. Made him go against everything he loved. Beaten the odds. For what? For this?

This couldn't be. This just couldn't be.

A life without him, cold and empty, stretched out before her. Her life didn't flash in front of her eyes, her future did. Cold, empty days.

Without him.

Without his warmth, without his smile. Her personal sun. She would never see his beauty again. She was all alone. Yes, there was her family. But they could never fill the hole he would leave behind.

No. It couldn't be. This had to be a bad dream. Wake up! Wake up! No. There was no escape. This was a horrible nightmare. One from which there would be no awakening. A daymare.

The last thing she felt was a pair of stone-solid arms. Then the blackness overtook her.