They aren't here yet, Edward wants to say to Carlisle's shoes. You have time. Run. Fucking run. But he can't speak. If he does, it'll give him away instantly.

But seconds bring them all that much closer. The haze of red, freed from constraint to enact jealous hatred with one word. He can make out thoughts even in the animalistic instincts taking over for this hunt.

He might not be able to speak but it doesn't leave him powerless. Edward snarled, low and fierce, when he sprung toward the first bunch rounding on them only half a minute later. The first ones don't stand chance of dodging.