Finally, she lifted her head and met her mother's troubled gaze. "I just... I feel... awful," she breathed.
Her mother smiled knowingly and nodded as she dropped her roller down. "He'll be back soon."
"I know it's just I don't know what he's doing, where he is, or who he's with!"
Her mother's forehead furrowed as the jealousy in her sizzled to life. It clawed at her and ripped her insides apart. "Isabelle, he's not with anyone else."
"How do I know that? You heard Vicky and Abby, he could have his choice of women, and I don't know what he's doing with them!"
"He doesn't want anyone but you. You are it, for eternity. I doubted it at first. I thought your father would grow tired of me, or find someone else, or want someone else, but it's impossible, Isabelle. As unbelievable as that sounds, it is impossible."
Isabelle almost slumped against the wall but managed to catch herself in time. "Why?"
Her mother smiled and shrugged. "I don't know, but if you don't believe me, ask yourself if you would ever want anyone else?"
The answer to that question was instantaneous. "No."
"Trust me when I tell you it is the same for him."
Isabelle nodded as she glanced around the empty living room. She was far from mollified. Her mother and father were different. Isabelle wasn't even sure how Stefan felt about her, besides thinking she belonged to him and they were soul mates, but she wanted more. She wanted his love, and she wasn't sure she had it.
"There's more, isn't there?" her mom asked.
"Is it painful when dad bites you?"
Her mother frowned as her eyes darkened worriedly. "At first it hurt, but now, not at all. Why?"
Isabelle wrapped her arms around herself as she turned her gaze back to the window. "I was just wondering," she mumbled.
"Isabelle—"
The opening of the door cut off whatever her mother was going to say. Isabelle's heart picked up with anticipation as her arms fell back to her sides. Acute disappointment crashed over her as Ethan came strolling in with Jack and Ian. Boxes were balanced haphazardly in their arms as they paused in the doorway to take in the half-painted living room.
"Looking good," Jack commented.
"Us or the walls?" her mom asked happily.
"Both," Jack replied with a grin. "Although, I'm not sure what has more paint on it, you guys or the walls."
Isabelle smiled as she glanced down at her paint-splattered clothing and arms. She was usually meticulous when she painted, but tonight she’d been unable to keep her mind focused on what she was doing. "I'm going to take a shower," she muttered.
Ignoring the curious stares cast her way, she left the room quickly. She rushed up the stairs, suddenly needing the sanctuary of her room and the comfort of a shower. She stayed beneath the pounding stream of water, hoping it would ease her. When it became obvious the water wasn't going to alleviate her anguish, she shut it off and climbed out.
She slid her nightgown over her head, brushed her hair, and moved back into the bedroom. Stefan's scent lingered everywhere, only serving to reinforce the tearing loneliness ripping at her heart and stomach. She sat dejectedly on the bed, drew her knees up to her chest, and wrapped her arms around them to ward off the desolation consuming her. Tears slid down her cheeks as she watched time slip by slowly.
It was after eleven when the door finally swung open. A cry of delight escaped her as she jumped off the bed and raced over to him. He grunted from the force of her impact as she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her head in his chest. He kicked the door shut before wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close against him.
The feel of him instantly caused the ache inside her to ease, but her worry remained as she tried desperately to get closer to him, to bury herself in him. It wasn't enough; she couldn't get close enough.
He lifted her chin with his finger. "What's the matter, love?"
She shuddered as the endearment slipped from him and caused her insides to melt. "It hurts," she whispered. "When you go away. I was scared you wouldn't come back."
"I'm not going anywhere, Isabelle, ever." His tone was much harsher than he’d intended, but how could she doubt his feelings for her?
"You left once."
He ground his teeth as frustration gripped him. "I'm not going anywhere without you, Isabelle. The way you feel when we're apart is the way I feel."
She stared doubtfully up at him; her lower lip trembled as tears coursed down her cheeks. "You can have anyone you want."
Exasperation rolled through him. She needed to know how he felt, needed to know she was his, and there would be no separating them. There was only one way he knew how to do that for sure. Sharing blood would seal their bond, allow her to see into him, and for him to see into her. He couldn't be entirely sure of how she felt until he could open the pathway of communication between them.
He grabbed hold of her waist, lifted her up and carried her over to the bed. He sat on the edge of it and settled her onto his lap. Her lashes fell to veil her eyes and shadow her cheeks. He nudged her chin gently, forcing her to look at him. The vulnerability in her gaze tore at his heart.
"Isabelle, we're soul mates. You belong to me, you're a
