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Chapter Text

She felt numb.

Numb and bitter and alone.

But numb clarity was surely better than hysteria, right? 

Bella and her immortal escorts were on the home stretch, coming to the end of flight three of three. 

Seattle to New York. 5 hours, 17 minutes. A three hour layover. 

New York to London. 7 hours, 8 minutes. A two hour layover. 

London to Romania. By the time they landed in Bucharest, the final flight of the journey would have taken approximately 3 hours and 11 minutes - if they landed on time. And they still had a long drive to go.

When they eventually arrived at their ultimate destination, Bella would have been travelling for over 24 hours, and she was already exhausted. 

The plane was quiet. Just the rumble of the engines, the soft snores of the other passengers and the muted conversations of the crew.

Just Bella and her awful, depressing thoughts. 

From the seat beside her, clearly feeling her dark mood, Jasper squeezed her knee in support. "Won't be long now, darlin'. We're nearly there." 

She raised a shoulder in a morose half shrug, the only acknowledgment she offered, not bothering with a verbal response. What was the point? Everything she'd been through for the last eighteen months had been for nothing. Flying to Italy to save Edward's life and begging for the Volturi's mercy had felt worth it, at the time. She'd stood before them and offered her life in lieu of his, pleading with them to kill her instead. And more and more lately, she wished that they had done just that. 

Because now she was facing an eternity without the man that she loved. Had loved. Still loved, if she was being truly honest with herself. 

And the Cullens? Her would-be 'family'?

They'd chosen Edward over her. Edward's comfort. Edward's presence. Edward's mate.

Bree fucking Tanner. 

Well, no.

To say that the Cullens had chosen Bree over her wasn't exactly true. 

Not quite. Not directly.

Despite the fact that Edward and Bree were now indisputably 'a thing', the Cullens had maintained that Bella was a part of their family.

Carlisle was determined that they would do right by her, which hadn't made Bella feel any better. She knew, in her heart of hearts, that she had somehow become an unwelcome obligation to them, rather than their would-be daughter in law. She felt the difference like a knife between her ribs; a sharp and painful reminder that she would never again truly belong with their coven. Once upon a time, she had been ready to marry into the family, preparing to take Edward's adopted surname before she took his bite, and joining with the Cullens in venom as well as in her heart. 

That is, until the prodigal son had encountered his angelic, doe-eyed mate, and had barely remembered that Bella existed. After that, Edward had tried to persuade his family to leave - he was getting really, really fucking predictable - remaining convinced that their absence would allow Bella to live out her human life, no vampiric transformation required.

But Alice had refused to allow this to happen, not for a second time. Carlisle, too, had been on Bella's side: all of the Cullens had, actually.  

Even Bree had advocated for Bella's right to survive - to become a vampire. Edward had been spectacularly outvoted, and his own mate had not been on his side. 

It still left a bitter taste in her mouth.

That Bree was Edward's mate. 

What was more difficult for Bella was the fact that she couldn't even bring herself to hate her.

The girl was nice, painfully so. She was a kind enough individual - quiet and calm and shy - with an unobtrusive, introspective demeanour that undoubtedly suited Edward's old-fashioned relationship expectations much better than Bella's modern feminist ideals ever had.

None of this mess was Bree's fault. None of this was even Edward's fault, if Bella was being honest. He hadn't exactly asked to find his soul mate in the aftermath of the battle with Victoria's newborns. 

And Bree, god, little Bree... she definitely hadn't asked for this.

She'd wanted Bella to stay with the family, even believed that the two of them could be friends in the future. (Once the issue of Bella's humanity was eliminated and she no longer wanted to drain her dry, that is. Bree had even been apologetic about that - the vampiric instinct to feed! Bella really wanted to hate the girl, honestly, she did.)

Worse still, Bella thought that they could have been friends, too, in another life. In other, much less heartbreaking and tragic circumstances.  But it was not to be.

Because Bree was with Edward, and Bella was not with Edward. In the high stakes game of vampiric life, the soul-mate card always won, whether the people involved wanted it to or not. Edward could barely even look at her anymore, too appalled by his own guilt to see the hollowness in Bella's eyes, and that had definitely made it easier to leave. Not that Bella particularly wanted to see Edward, either. 

The Cullens were all being so nauseatingly kind, tiptoeing around Bella in her role as Edward's poor discarded human girlfriend. No, not girlfriend; fiancée. He'd proposed two days before he'd encountered Bree. Not that the engagement ring had ever made it onto Bella's finger. And thank goodness for small mercies, because taking that ring off again might just have been the thing that tipped an already very-fragile Isabella Marie Swan over the edge - the straw that broke the camel's back, so to speak - plunging her into a full-blown nervous breakdown at the sheer ridiculousness of her shitty rotten luck. 

Bella was sick of kindness. She was sick of the pitying looks that everyone sent her way when they thought that she wasn't looking. She was sick of conversations stopping as she walked into a room. She was sick of Carlisle's compassion and Esme's sympathy and Emmett's forced cheerfulness and Rosalie's sad, knowing stares. She was sick of feeling like an obligation that they'd been lumbered with instead of the daughter they'd once joyfully embraced.

Most sickening of all was the fact that Bella still had to become a vampire. It wasn't that she no longer wanted to become an immortal, no. But that eternity suddenly felt like a disturbingly long time, now that it was certain that she wouldn't be sharing her forever with Edward Cullen. There would be no 'happily ever after' in Bella and Edward's vampiric fairytale. He was with Bree, and he would always remain with Bree. 

Yes, she'd adjusted. Bella Swan was remarkably and bitterly good at adjusting. Not that 'adjusting' to her circumstances had made things any easier to shoulder. She'd barely retained her humanity on the wretched day that Bree Tanner had entered her life. The twitchy newborn had been almost out of control in her need to tear into Bella's throat, not to mention how unimpressed the Volturi contingent had been to see her still human in mid-June. 

But, in another terrible twist of fate, the most danger to Bella that afternoon had come from Edward. It was difficult for Edward to control his need for Bella's blood on a good day, with the eternal teenager only being dissuaded from partaking by the depth of his feelings for her. So of course Edward meeting Bree had irreparably shaken the foundations of that restraint. With his omniscient telepathy, he'd experienced Bree's terrible bloodlust in addition to his own. And his love for Bella had been unexpectedly eclipsed for his sudden, all-encompassing devotion to Bree, no matter how much he may have loved Bella just moments before.

It hadn't been love at first sight, Edward had stiltedly explained (three painful days later), but part of him had known.

"I just knew," her bronze-haired ex-boyfriend had mumbled, awkwardly attempting to put the situation into words, "I knew it more than anything else. That she was the other half of me. There could never be another. Everything else. Everyone else. It all just... fell away, stopped mattering. I would have done anything for her, given her anything she wanted... Even you, Bella. Even your blood, knowing how much I crave it for myself: I would have given your blood to her in a heartbeat, and I hate myself for that, I really do. But it doesn't make it less true." 

That had hurt. 

Had the rest of the Cullens not immediately intervened, Bella might well have ended up on the menu for Edward and Bree's first dinner date.

That clusterfuck of an afternoon had been two months ago. 

And now it was late August, and Bella was on a plane to Bucharest with Alice and Jasper, travelling to meet up with two of Jasper's old comrades from the Southern vampire wars, before her inevitable transition would begin. 

The official story was that Bella was taking a Gap Year. Going travelling. Adventuring across Europe with a backpack and a dream. The best part of the lie was that it was partly true. 

Everything had been meticulously planned. No detail left unattended to, no holes to poke at and, ultimately, there would be no blame placed on the Cullens for her eventual demise. 

She'd loudly and publicly broken up with Edward at school, calling him a cheater. And he'd taken it, without argument or complaint. To the absolute delight of Bella's few school friends, he'd stood there in chagrined silence and allowed her to verbally castigate him. His lack of denial had only proven him guilty in the eyes of Forks High School's student populace. 

He'd owed her that much: the closure of an undisputed break up, allowing her to claw back some self-esteem when his actions had robbed her of practically everything else.

Including - eventually - her life.

Their relationship had officially ended on Monday 18th June, a mere three days after Victora had been defeated. 

In those three days with Bree, Edward had somehow fallen wholly out of love with Bella.

He still loved her, he'd said, still cared 'in his way', but his feelings for Bree were so instinctive, primal and desperate and possessive in a way that he'd never anticipated experiencing.

Three days with his actual mate and suddenly Bella was once again il suo cantante. To be so callously reduced to the appeal of her blood, after the two of them had shared so much emotional turmoil... There was a poetic cruelty in the full-circleness of it all. 

Edward hadn't returned to Forks High until Friday 22nd June, at which point the public breakup had occurred in the parking lot after school. 

Her tears that afternoon had been real. Her words of hurt had been more than genuine. When she was through, he'd been little more than a sullen statue beside his car, expressionless and hunched over as if to protect himself from her verbal attack.

But Bella had taken little enjoyment in causing him pain. Love didn't just evaporate into thin air.

Not for humans, at least. 

She'd denounced him to her parents. Explained that he'd fallen for an exchange student and cheated on her. She told Jake a version of the truth that he'd understand: that Edward had 'imprinted' on another vampire. That their relationship was over and for good, because mated vampires were usually monogamous and possessive. She'd also used her concerns about Jacob's eventual imprinting to refuse his renewed offer of a date, explaining that she couldn't risk putting herself through the same heartbreak again. 

She'd made Jake believe that she was done with dating altogether, that she was eschewing romance with a firm hand, and then Bella had started to lay the foundations of her disappearance. 

She'd quietly deferred her college entry to the following fall - over a year away - and started vocally romanticising the idea of travelling.

She wanted to see the world before her life got too serious, she told her dad. Told her mom she'd seen it in a dream that she would find her true love in Norway - Renee loved that new-age bullshit. And now she was flying into Romania with Alice and Jasper, and the three of them were actually going to do some real travelling in the late European summer.

She'd talked SO much about seeing the quaint, backroad areas of Europe. She'd deliberately droned on and on to anyone who would listen about the list she'd made of obscure towns and hidden gems, obsessed over what hiking gear to pack. Talked about the heat-retaining qualities of various thermal fabrics and ideal tent configurations and weight distribution in backpacks and a million other hiking related topics that she didn't actually care about, until even Charlie was tired of hearing her talk and eager to see her do. 

Everyone had bought it. 

It was a reasonable enough cliché, Bella thought, for a girl to end her first real relationship, only to become determined to 'find herself' by getting lost in the wild places of the world. 

It hardly mattered that they were staying in lavish, boutique hotels with day spas and guest tours, tucked away in the European countryside. She'd be getting waxed and highlighted and massaged within an inch of her life. The full VIP Vampire-In-Waiting treatment, according to Alice. 

But she was still mildly hurt at how easily her (human) loved ones had accepted her sudden and enormous personality change. Bella hated outdoor pursuits, mostly. Sure, she enjoyed riding her dirt bike with Jake, and she had recreationally jumped from a cliff once-upon-a-time, but Isabella Swan was not an outdoorsy kind of girl. Did nobody know her at all? Or had she just become that good of an actress? 

In mid September, in almost four weeks' time, Alice and Jasper were going to return home for a 'family emergency' of some kind, and Bella was going to stubbornly insist on continuing on along their route alone, with the plan being to meet them in Košice. She was already mentally preparing for that disagreement with Charlie, and Alice had warned her that she'd have to pull the 'I'm an adult now, dad' card. 

(She wouldn't actually be alone, though, nor would she even be in the wilderness at this point.) Her itinerary would state that she was somewhere within the Carpathian Mountains, out of cell-service range and deep into a four day hike from Ukraine to Slovakia. 

Her actual location would be at a beautiful and luxurious mountain cabin, remote and isolated in the Plitvice Lakes National Park, a stunning and wild part of Croatia wherein she would eventually be changed. Instead of Alice and Jasper, it would be Peter & Charlotte keeping her company, waiting until all of the Quileute's suspicions had been removed from the Cullens. 

She had laboured over a long and detailed itineracy that both her parents and Jake had a copy of, and thanks to the Cullens' enormous wealth, there had been tickets booked months in advance for trains she'd never ride and flights she'd never take. The expenses had all been written off as an ostentatious graduation gift from Carlisle and Esme, who were genuinely devastated about what had happened with Edward and Bella. They liked Bree, of course - she was annoyingly difficult to dislike, to be honest - but they cared deeply for Bella, and had done for a long time. The Cullen parental figures both felt immense guilt for not being able to support Bella through her transition and the following Newborn year, despite trusting Jasper's judgement and experience when he'd pointed out how difficult it would be for Bella to control those pesky Newborn emotions in the face of Edward and Bree's newly-found, if tentative, domestic bliss. 

That had lead to Alice 'taking a peek' into Bella's vampiric future, and once the psychic pixie had witnessed for herself what would happen if Bella was to remain with the Cullens in the immediate aftermath of her transition - events that left her ashen-faced and visibility traumatised - plans had been swiftly made for Bella to undergo her change elsewhere.

(This was, in Bella's opinion, when the Cullens had 'chosen' Edward and Bree over her. Because rather than suggesting that Edward and Bree should take some time for themselves, away from the wider coven, it had been Bella's transition into immortality that had been relocated. Bella remaining with the Cullens would have required the entire coven to relocate, probably to Alaska, but that was what the original plan had been anyway. It wasn't like they could all stay together in Forks forever - Alaska was next on the Cullens' list of vampire friendly locales, and they were heading up there regardless. But - during a heated conversation that Bella had been able to listen in on, thanks to Alice surreptitiously putting her cell on speakerphone - Edward had argued that 'his mate needed the entire coven's support as she acclimated to their diet'. And Esme... sweet, maternal Esme; the collector of broken toys and damaged souls... She had ultimately sided with Edward, though Bella had heard how it had broken Esme's heart to do so. Emmett had passionately argued for Bella, almost coming to blows with Edward in the process. He had eventually stormed out of the house, refusing to choose between abandoning his sister and following Rosalie's wishes - because Rosalie just wanted to stay with Esme.)

After their coven's loyalties had been settled - with Alice and Jasper firmly on 'Team Bella', Jasper had immediately suggested contacting Peter and Charlotte. The two part-time nomads were his oldest friends in the world, and he trusted them with his life: he could think of no better guidance for Bella as she navigated the upheaval of her Newborn period. 

"They're not like us," Edward protested in a low, angry voice, unaware that Bella could hear what they were all discussing. "They don't hunt like us, Jasper... How do you expect Bel- her to adhere to our diet when you're delivering her into the hands of two human drinkers? We can't allow her to associate with vampires like that. Not whilst she's... vulnerable." 

"Maybe I plan to ask Bella what she wants her diet to look like," Jasper had replied, audibly offended at Edward's summarisation of Peter and Charlotte. "How Bella chooses to feed and who Bella chooses to befriend is no longer any of your business, Edward." 

Bella heard Alice chime in, then; "We know that none of this is your fault, Edward, but it's not Bella's fault either. And she has to be changed. I swore to the Volturi that I'd make it happen, and I'm not sacrificing my life - or Bella's - because your heart is now elsewhere. You've already decided that it's too difficult to be friends with her, so you need to stop trying to interfere with our plans. Your only role now is to go along with whatever we arrange. You owe her your compliance, Edward, at the very least. You went to the Volturi. You exposed all of us. Don't forget that we're only finishing what you started - and this is what Bella wants, too. Bella is my sister, with or without you. Jasper and I will take care of her now, with Peter and Charlotte, with or without your approval. What you want doesn't matter anymore. Don't you think that you've done enough damage?" 

Bella loved Alice a whole lot more after hearing her speak to Edward like that. And knowing that she would be entirely away from the Cullens' sphere of influence had made the thought of her transition just a little bit less daunting. She didn't need the added stress of Edward's judgemental avoidance or Bree's unfailing compassion or Rosalie's outright disapproval about Bella 'choosing wrong'.

The plan surrounding Bella's vanishing act meant that, at first, she would need to diligently keep in touch with Angela, Jessica, Jake, Renee and Charlie, following the script that Alice had written for her when she spoke to her loved ones back home. Alice and Jasper would be careful to be seen back in Forks, interacting with the rest of the Cullen family in public places. All of them had to be present to alleviate suspicion and maintain the treaty with the wolves, even Edward and his twitchy little mate. 

Then, Charlie would hear from Alice and Jasper about how they were finally flying back out to meet Bella in Slovakia, on 5th October. Alice had seen that he would even offer them a ride to the airport.

And just as Alice & Jasper boarded their first plane at Seattle International, Bella was going to disappear. All contact would immediately cease. Charlotte would create a campsite that was deep in the woods, somewhere along the border between Slovakia, Poland and Ukraine. When Alice and Jasper arrived in New York to make their connecting flight to London, they would check in with Peter, who would then begin Bella's transformation. Upon reaching London, Alice and Jasper would cautiously alert Charlie that they hadn't heard from Bella in almost 24 hours, but would get in touch with him again once they touched down in Slovakia.

And so her disappearance would unfold, and all the while Bella would be transitioning into immortality, approximately 710km and two-and-a-half countries away from the location wherein she was supposedly missing. 

Bella had taken morbid inspiration from the tragic case of Geraldine Largay, a woman who disappeared along the Appalachian Trail after getting lost. Her campsite and remains had been found two years later, along with a journal documenting her last days of life.

With this in mind, Bella planned to leave a long letter addressed to her loved ones, explaining that she was lost, the weather was turning and that she had run out of supplies. She would write of her love for them, about how she was glad that they hadn't seen her die, and she would ask them not to torture themselves with forever mourning her loss. This would be tucked into a waterproof bag and sheltered from the elements as much as possible. Charlotte would then destroy the campsite and spread around Bella's torn and bloodstained clothing, making it appear as if her remains had been scavenged on after her death. Alice had seen that the letter would be found in 8 months time, as the spring hiking season was getting underway in the Carpathian Mountains, and Bella's parents would find closure and solace in finally knowing what had happened to their daughter. 

Whilst Charlotte was faking Bella's death, Peter would deliver the bite that would end her human life and begin her immortality. 

The location of Bella's faux-death had been carefully chisen for its predator population, remote wilderness, the strained police forces of the ex Soviet Union nations, the unpredictable weather patterns, and the lack of effective search and rescue resources.

Alice and Jasper would finally arrive at the cabin in Croatia five weeks after Bella had opened her eyes to her new life, a week after the (fruitless) search for Bella had been called off.

The in-aircraft PA system activated with an annoyingly chirpy bing-bong and the seatbelt sign lit up. 

"Ladies and gentlemen, as we prepare for landing, please ensure your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright positions..." 

And so, as the plane circled the airport and came in to land, Bella sighed, and awaited the beginning of her end.

8 years later, Croatia

If she'd thought that being prepared for life as a vampire would help to smooth her transition into immortality, Bella was very, very wrong. 

At first, all that existed was the burn in her veins. White hot burning that Bella was certain would kill her.

And then she'd opened her eyes, fifty-nine hours after the bite, and that burn would exist solely in her throat. Blood, burning, blood, burning, blood, blood, blood, blood. There were short lived moments of clarity, during which she'd been able to establish and then nurture friendships with Charlotte and Peter, but those moments would be offset by the stereotypically-Newborn fractiousness and emotional uncertainty.

Her post-Edward depression also hadn't disappeared, instead manifesting with greater strength and devastating impact. Where there wasn't blood, there was burning. And when the burn was temporarily eased, there was bottomless grief. Even with the unwavering support of Alice and Jasper and Charlotte and Peter, Bella struggled. 

Bella had tried the animal thing. Valiantly. Laboriously. 

For two and a half years after her transition - a time she tried not to remember, for all that she'd endured - she'd hunted only animals.

Croatia had a decent and varied population of wildlife. Bears, lynxes, wolves. Red deer, roe deer, mouflon, chamois... Even boar, jackals and foxes. She'd tried everything, at least three times. Each. At one point, during a late night swim in the ocean, she'd even taken down a shark. Just to try the taste. (Maybe hunting animals was so difficult because she was a pescatarian vampire?) 

But she'd been dangerously unsatisfied. Volatile and unstable even by typical newborn standards, according to Jasper's wealth of expertise. Her control was almost non-existent, with her only precious hours of lucidity occurring directly after each feed. Two and a half years post-transition and she could barely even dress herself without tearing through fabric and destroying clothes.

They'd quickly established that Jasper's ability could no longer impact Bella after her transition, but there was something innately serene and immovable about Charlotte that was able to calm the newborn during her emotive fits of rage. As a result, she'd grown close to Charlotte during this period, sometimes even needing the woman's help just to wash her hair, and Alice, too, had been a steadfast presence in Bella's life. Peter had been understandably wary of Bella at first, treating her with cold civility prior to her change, but in biting her, he'd become her Sire. It was only natural for Bella to seek comfort from him, and since she already gravitated towards Charlotte's relaxed demeanour, Bella spent a lot of time with the two would-be nomads.

Bella's relationship with Peter and Charlotte was unusual, in a way. The two were a mated pair, and yet it had been made explicitly clear to Bella that she was more than welcome to join them... in their bed. But the situation wasn't awkward. Her friendship with Char was flirtatious and affectionate, but they hadn't crossed any physical lines beyond friendly hugs, having not even shared a kiss.  There was no pressure, no pointed words or unwelcome gestures, just an inherent understanding that a mutual attraction existed between them. If anything, Bella felt just as comfortable with the two of them as she did with Alice and Jasper. 

Jasper had tried his best to manage Bella's moods, of course, but even he couldn't come close to controlling or subduing her when she'd been taken by a bout of depression or anger at her inability to cope on the animal blood. He could sense her moods but not impact them, his pathokenisis proving truly useless for the first time in his life. 

Her four companions hadn't dared to suggest an alternative diet, knowing that Bella's handle on her emotions was tenuous at best. 

Her first human had been an absolute accident.

A likely-lost backpacker, fourteen miles away from the closest trail, had limped into her path. She'd been lying on the snowy ground, surrounded by deer carcasses and had probably looked like a bloodied corpse to the human's eyes. He'd been dirty and exhausted and petrified. But Bella hadn't hesitated for even a second, and as his blood had slipped down her throat, she felt the most wonderful sensation of rightness. The haze of depression seemed to suddenly lift, the dark clouds being chased away by a fierce and powerful wind.  

She left his body in the wilderness. The wolves would clean up her mess. 

When she'd returned to the cabin, her temper more even than she'd felt in years, Charlotte had been the first to approach her. 

"You look... better," the evocative auburn woman had commented, her pointer finger swiping at a dap of blood by Bella's lip. "A lot better." She'd sucked it knowingly into her mouth and smirked. "Nice eyes, naughty girl. They suit you."

"I feel better than I have... ever," Bella replied softly, sitting down on the cabin's wrap-around deck and letting her legs swing. "My mind is so clear. I feel stronger, more in control. If this is what I've been missing..."

"And how is your conscience?" Charlotte murmured, perching beside Bella and leaning back on her hands. "Are you appropriately tortured and filled with remorse? Shall we charter a plane to get you back to the blessed bosom of dear old Carlisle?"

Bella snorted and elbowed the woman who had quickly become like a sister to her. "No thanks, Char. I'm good. Better than good, I think. I feel... normal."

"Jasper will be pleased," Alice announced, stepping out onto the deck and sliding to the floor, crossing her legs beside Bella. "You've been the worst Newborn ever, Bella. Thank god for lost hikers."

Bella glanced up at Alice, trying to gage the woman's feelings on the matter. "I did try it your way. It wasn't working."

Alice scoffed. "My way? Please. I wanted to suggest this six months ago, but Jasper-"

"Was wrong," the empath himself interjected mildly, joining the women outside. "I was wrong. I'm sorry, Bella. I didn't want to derail your efforts." 

Bella stood and stretched. "No apology necessary, Jazz. I had to get here on my own, I think. I would have felt like a failure if one of you had had to broach the topic. I can't tell you how different everything feels," she said, marvelling at the clarity. "I feel like me again." 

"You seem like you," Alice beamed up at her, "Nice to finally have you back amongst the living." 

"I don't know how you guys do it," Bella went on, shaking her head, "The taste difference alone..." she groaned at the memory. "There's no comparison. I don't even want to try and put it into words. But wow. That's what I've been going without, all this time? No wonder I've been acting like a crazy person. I'm so sorry that I put you all through that... Through that awful version of me." 

Jasper chuckled ruefully. "You've been acting like a Newborn, darlin'. Nothin' crazy about it."

"Maybe a little crazy," Alice muttered, smirking when Bella poked her gently in the back. "Babysitting you has been the worst."

"The animal diet is unnatural," Charlotte agreed evenly, "Not all of us can cope with it. Most of us can't. I tried it for a couple of weeks, once, just after Jasper joined the Cullens. I was curious, y'know? Anyway, I went right back to feeling like a brand new baby-vamp. Totally out of control. Honestly, I don't know how the Cullens do it long-term. Buncha masochistic freaks if you ask me."

"Char's right," Jasper nodded with a sigh, not at all offended by her words, "I've never seen a Newborn go without human blood, especially not for as long as you have. I only know two vampires who have never slipped."

"Carlisle and Rosalie," Bella slipped off her shoes before entering the cabin, wrinkling her nose at the bloodstained hiking boots. "I remember."

"Even we sneak a little taste occasionally," Alice confessed, "When we're away from the family for an extended period of time and can re-adjust to their diet before going home. It's how we're meant to feed. Jazz and I... We've found that our gifts are at their strongest when we've had human blood. I don't think the others would understand."

Bella tilted her head to one side, considering. "Edward might understand," she mused aloud, not missing how the three others tensed at the sound of his name. To their surprise, she didn't immediately descend into the now-predictable emotional overwhelm that usually followed any mention of the Forbidden Cullen. "Relax," Bella rolled her eyes, "I'm fine. Really. Edward is with Bree. I'm okay, I promise." She paused. "For the first time, I know that I'm okay. Is this the magic of human blood?!" She laughed self-deprecatingly, shaking her head again at the bizarre and unexpected differences in herself. 

Jasper clapped her on the shoulder, immediately withdrawing his hand when he realised her clothes were soaked with a mixture of melted snow and blood. "Atta girl, Bella." 

"And on that note, I am going to wash my hair." Bella peeled off her long-sleeved overshirt, revealing the strappy camisole beneath. Charlotte eyed her curves appreciatively, and Bella rolled her eyes at the blatant perusal.

"If you need help in the shower, sugar, holler and I'll come," Charlotte called after her.

"I bet you will," Bella retorted playfully over her shoulder, shaking her head. "I think I'll be okay." 

.

Her diet now firmly settled in the 'traditional' camp, Bella had fallen into a much easier rhythm of life. She'd quickly regained the mundane skills that she'd lost in her newborn years, soon managing to master her strength now that she wasn't fraught with constant hunger and the accompanying tension. There was something so ordinary about being able to grasp a pen or fasten a button, and yet they were both things that she'd taken for granted. Unlike when she'd been hunting animals, when she'd had to hunt every day, Bella now only needed to feed once a week.

Within a year, it was every ten days. And her control seemed to develop steadily after that. But she soon became bored with a life that still revolved around blood alone, and her mental health was teetering.

Her circle of friends had grown, with Bella now speaking with Emmett on a regular basis, and she received the occasional email from Esme and Carlisle. She flirted with Charlotte, meditated with Peter, sparred with all four of her Vampire Guardians, and she'd stolen Jasper's unused Kindle with the intention to read a thousand books. She was glad to find that her love of books had carried over into immortality, and devoured whatever she could get her metaphorical hands on, at first focusing on the literature that she'd missed out on as a human. 

Leo Tolstoy. George Orwell. JRR Tolkien. The Brontë and Austen Sisters. JD Salinger. Geoffrey Chaucer. Mary Shelley. Oscar Wilde. Ralph Ellison. Ernest Hemingway. Harper Lee. F Scott Fitzgerald. John Green. Markus Zusak. Sara Gruen. Bram Stoker. Gustave Flaubert. George RR Martin. Yann Martel. Fyodor Dostoevsky. Anne Rice.  AN Roquelaure. Victor Hugo. 

Etcetera. 

Books were familiar. Books were safe. Books were an escape.

And for a time, Bella lost herself between the (electronic) pages, allowing her mind the luxury of focusing on nothing but fiction.

After a while, when her mind had grown tired of the Heavier Hitters of the literature world, she'd veered off into the more adult genre. Dark Romance. Fairy Smut. Mafia Kingpins. For the sheltered virgin that she remained, those books had been ... eye opening. And Bella began to take long showers, discovering the delights of her body in ways that she'd never previously thought about, using up a lot of the cabin's hot water in the process. A discreetly packaged, brand-new vibrator had appeared in her bedside drawer around two weeks after these showers had began. Bella could have kissed Alice, if she hadn't been so embarrassed.

.

"I'm boooooored, Alice," Bella had whined one sunny afternoon, "Entertain me." 

"Learn a language," Alice suggested, not looking up from her laptop. 

"I already learned Croatian," Bella nodded, pleased with herself that she'd been able to pick up the other language so quickly, "There are hundreds of others to choose from. How am I supposed to decide?" 

Alice looked up, a saccharine smile on her elfin face. She shrugged, seemingly plucking a language out of thin air. "Try Italian." 

"Italian? That's random," Bella muttered, fiddling with a language app on her phone. "Why Italian?" 

"Why not Italian?" Alice shrugged again, "The Volturi are in Italy, for one. Might be useful for you to understand their favoured language, just in case you ever have to visit." 

At the mention of the Volturi, Bella straightened out of her slouched position and sat up properly. "Visit? Have you seen something?" Her voice was urgent, laced with worry, and yet Alice smiled.

"Nothing to warrant that freaked out expression on your face," the psychic teased. "They have a ball every now and again - every twenty five years or so. New vampires are expected to be presented by their Sires, or by their covens, to the three Kings. It's a demonstration of loyalty and respect, to introduce younger vampires to those who uphold the laws of our kind." 

"That sounds old-fashioned and unnecessary," Bella muttered. "Obviously they just like throwing their weight around." 

"That and their money, too," Alice responded cheerfully, not at all concerned by Bella's trepidation. "The Volturi are a necessary evil, Bella. They're not even evil, really. Your view of them will be tainted because of what happened with Edward, but they're not inherently bad, exactly. You have to remember - Edward was going to expose himself to humans, to force Aro into executing him. He deliberately provoked the Volturi, so he had to be dealt with. The Volturi play an important role, a crucial role. They hold these balls to keep tabs on us all - because that's their job. Record keeping. Vampire population control. Protecting humanity. Maintaining stable governance to prevent uprisings and rebellion. Asserting their authority and displaying their strength as the Coven that rules over all others." 

"I don't have a coven," Bella pointed out quietly, a feeling of despondence making her frown. "Peter is my sire, but-"

Alice stood, then, and walked across the office to sit by Bella on the low-backed leather couch. "Belonging to a coven can be overrated, sometimes," Alice placed a gentle hand on Bella's knee. "You will always be my sister, Bella. Even if you don't want to be a Cullen."

"Then who will I be?" Bella sighed, and the sound was sad. "What will I be? All I ever wanted was to be one of you, and now..."

"Now you're one of us," Charlotte interjected from the door, an understanding look on her face. "You'll always have a place with me and Peter, sweetie, you know that." 

Bella gave Charlotte a watery smile. "I don't know what I'd do without you - all four of you. But I know you guys are restless, Char. I can feel it. I know you and Peter want to be on the move again... I know you never normally stay in one place for this long. And... I'm not ready to leave the cabin, not permanently. This place feels like home to me. It feels like stability and peace. I-" she looked dejectedly down at the floor. "I don't know if I'll ever want the kind of life that you and Peter love, and I don't want to hold you back. I won't hold you back. When you're ready to move on, I need you to go. Please... don't stay here just for me. I'll be fine." 

.

It wasn't long after that that Peter and Charlotte started to come and go, now that they were sure that Bella would be okay without them. Their absences grew longer, until one day Bella realised that they'd been gone for six months. Alice and Jasper maintained a base at the cabin in Croatia, but they too were often away, and Bella regularly had the sprawling property to herself. 

The dwelling that they referred to as 'the cabin' wasn't actually a cabin at all. It was a beautiful and striking six-bedroomed house, spread across three storeys and deftly placed towards the top of a mountain in a place that offered seclusion and privacy. It was sheltered on all sides by dense forest, with only the wrap around porch and the four mile long driveway providing any noticeable break in the trees.

The bottom half of the house was the original property, built from traditional Croatian stonework. The downstairs contained two large reception rooms, a sizeable office, a bathroom, and a small but modernised kitchen, with a 360 degree deck that looked out into the woodlands beyond and held an enormous hot tub behind a privacy screen. The upper floors made up the extension, and the log-beam exterior walls were what had given the cabin its moniker. All of the bedrooms were on the second level, each of which had private balconies and their own en-suite bathroom facilities. When Bella squinted, she could see Esme's handiwork in the sympathetic architecture and calming interior design, and Jasper had confirmed that the cabin was part of the Cullen's extensive property portfolio. 

Bella had barely noticed her surroundings before she'd taken to drinking human blood, too focused on satiating the incessant burn in her throat to even care about where she was living. But once she'd made the switch, she'd been able to fully appreciate the tranquility of the countryside and enjoy the smaller details of the place she was currently calling home. She loved the exposed wooden beams in the walls and ceilings, the arch-topped windows, the subtle texture in the paintwork. 

It was odd, Bella thought, that Edward had once equated a diet of human blood to drug addiction: in her experience, she felt more like an addict when she was doing the animal thing. As a 'vegetarian', her entire being had been centred around the next feed, determined to secure the next hit. And yet, when she was feeding the way that she was biologically meant to, her mind and body felt like they actually belonged to her again. She felt secure and calm and at peace in a way that animal blood just hadn't been able to provide. When existing on a diet of solely animal blood, she felt like an animal herself - rabid and unstable and dangerous, completely unable to be around humans in any way, shape or form - barely managing to tolerate the presence of other vampires when she was thirsty.

Human blood... it unlocked something in her. Her humanity. It was a bitter truth, one she'd only notice in the years to come, but she just couldn't find it in herself to feel guilty for the human lives lost for the sake of her sustenance. 

Human beings were prey, and she was a predator. It was the natural order of things. And in feeding from them, she could once again walk amongst them, reclaiming another part of herself that she'd thought forever lost. 

-

At the five and a half year mark, thanks to some recently acquired illegal documentation from Jasper, Bella actually was travelling through Europe. By year six, post change, she had learned several languages, mostly achieved by immersing herself in the local cultures, meaning that she'd become relatively fluent in Croatian, Italian, Spanish, French and most recently, Danish. Her venom-enhanced vampire brain was a sponge for retaining information, and Bella was thrilled with this aspect of her new self. 

Within a further six months, she'd started an online degree program in European history at the University of Copenhagen - well, Marie Charlotte Isabelle Brandon had - again, thanks to Jasper's useful ability to procure the necessary paperwork. She was a distance learner, splitting her time between the cabin in Croatia and her travels around the continent. 

Bella found peace and quiet joy in her new life, and though she was mostly alone, save for the times she'd cross paths with Charlotte and Peter at the cabin, she was truly content. 

Until the invitation arrived. 

.

Alice and Jasper were waiting for Bella at the cabin when she returned from her hunt, and the pair looked more anxious than she'd seen them in years. 

"Hey," she beamed at the two, folding them both into a hug, "I haven't seen you guys in five months. Wasn't expecting you here for another three at least. Is everything okay?" 

Alice and Jasper exchanged a loaded glance. "Maybe." 

Bella slipped off her boots and coat, taking the time to put the items away in the closet at a human speed. There was something pleasingly ordinary and mundane about performing tasks like her mortal self would have done, and Bella often utilised these stolen moments of domesticity to calm her own nerves.

"Maybe?" She echoed, "What does maybe mean?" 

Alice moved into the main reception room and sat down, perching on the edge of a plush armchair. "You remember a while ago, when I told you that the Volturi sometimes have balls?" 

Bella stiffened. "No." 

Alice raised an eyebrow. "No as in 'no, you don't remember' or-" 

"No as in 'absolutely fucking not'," Bella hissed back, "You can't be serious, Alice. I'm not ready to go to a ball. I don't think I'll ever be ready for that."

Jasper grimaced as he entered the room. "To quote the wording on the invitation... attendance is mandatory." 

"And you've been specifically named on the invite," Alice nodded, "As part of the Cullen coven. Charlotte and Peter will have received one, too. The Volturi invite every single vampire that they are on allied terms with, and coven leaders are expected to present their newest members. If you don't go..."

"It's as good as being in open rebellion," Jasper grumbled. 

Bella pulled a face. "But surely, there are nomads who wouldn't get invites? Can't that be my loophole? I'm not actually a Cullen." 

"The Volturi are diligent and thorough with monitoring our numbers," Jasper ran a hand through his hair, "Any vampire passing through Italy is expected to pay their respects to the Kings, especially the nomads. So if a nomad doesn't attend for whatever reason, it's acceptable, as long as they've paid homage to our rulers within the last ten years." 

"And I haven't done that," Bella sighed. "So there's no way out of it."

Alice shook her head. "You have to come." 

Bella huffed and fell back onto the couch. "When is it?" 

"In two months," Alice pulled out her cell. "New Years Eve. But we're expected to arrive the day before, to settle in to our rooms in the Palazzo. All you need to do is meet us at Florence airport on December 30th with your essentials, just your laptop and phone charger and stuff. I'll take care of everything else. Dress, shoes, underwear... Whatever you'll need for the trip, I'll bring it for you."

"Will Edward be there?" 

It was Jasper who answered her. "With Bree, yes," he confirmed. "Are you going to be alright, seeing them both?" 

"It's been almost eight and a half years since Edward and I broke up," Bella replied evenly. "They're married now. I'll be fine." 

"You never know," the empath grinned, "You might even meet your own mate at this event."

As arranged, Bella met up with the Cullens at Florence airport, at 4pm on Thursday 30th December. She'd been able to persuade Peter and Charlotte to come with her for the meeting (for moral support) and they made a striking trio as they waited outside Arrivals for the other coven. 

Charlotte stood between Bella and Peter, her arms hooked casually through theirs, and Bella smiled as Charlotte squeezed her wrist in solidarity. 

"You look gorgeous, Bella," the auburn haired woman whispered, "Like a sexy pale biker chick in designer jeans." 

Bella rolled her eyes but her smile widened. She was glad she'd followed her instincts with her clothes today. A silky black blouse tucked into dark figure-hugging jeans, black leather boots with a pointed toe and a tall heel, and her leather jacket. Her curly hair had been pulled back into a loose low ponytail, though the wind had disrupted the style enough that tendrils had escaped and now bounced around her face. 

"And you look like a red-haired Tinkerbell in that green dress," Bella murmured, "A little Irish fairy." 

Peter chuckled at the description of his mate. "Tinkerbell is hot, right?" 

The conversation was interrupted by Emmett's loud cheer, and the large vampire swept Bella off of her feet, twirling her in the air.

"Dude, I missed you!"

Bella laughed at his enthusiasm and patted him on the back. "We talked on the phone like a week ago, Em."

"Put her down, Emmett," Rosalie appeared beside them, rolling her eyes at her husband's antics. "Hello, Bella. Nice to see you." She smiled at Bella, a small but genuine gesture, and Bella smiled back, surprised at the warmth from the blonde. 

"Hi, Rosalie," Bella nodded, wondering how Rose would receive her when her brown contacts dissolved to reveal the rich crimson irises beneath. "Esme, Carlisle; good to see you."

Esme enfolded Bella in a tight embrace. "Oh, Bella, how wonderful to see you. You look beautiful." 

Carlisle pressed polite kisses to both of Bella's cheeks. "Bella - you're looking well. I hear from Alice that you have just completed your bachelor's degree? Congratulations."

"Thank you," Bella beamed back, "I appreciate that! I'm actually looking for a postgrad program, at the minute. Something that lets me keep travelling." 

"We should talk more about this later," Carlisle said, enthused, "I'd love to hear about your future plans." 

Bella stiffened slightly as Edward and Bree moved towards her, wary of how the two would greet her. "Hi guys. I heard that you got married - congratulations. I hope you have a long and happy life together."

"Thank you," Bree replied, her voice still the same quiet melody that Bella distantly remembered. "I can't wait to hear about what you've been up to, Bella. You're all Alice talks about when she comes home." 

"I hope not," Bella grimaced, and she and Bree shared a small laugh. "Bree, this is Peter, my Sire, and this is Charlotte, his mate." 

Bree nodded politely at the two, visibly hesitant, and Bella wondered what the smaller woman had undoubtedly heard from Edward. "Nice to meet you," Bree said finally. "I've heard a lot about you." 

"Don't believe everything you hear," Bella interjected, her loyalty to the two nomads automatically pushing her to their defence. "Peter and Charlotte are two of my greatest friends in the world. I hope we can all get along." 

Carlisle extended his arms and started to shepherd their sizeable group towards a fleet of black SUVs with the Volturi insignia displayed subtly on the vehicle doors. "Aro sent cars," he offered, "Come on, let's grab the luggage and get going." 

Translations-

Italian

il suo cantante - his singer 

Chapter Text

Aro thoroughly enjoyed hosting these elaborate soirées at Volterra.

Such festivities were an excellent opportunity to demonstrate the global reach of the Volturi, the sheer number of their allies, with the opulently decorated ballroom providing just the slightest hint at depth of their coffers. 

There was also the matter of being introduced to the youngest members of vampire kind, and being able to assess the talents and loyalties of the aforementioned youngsters. He would keep Chelsea on his arm for the first third of the evening, allowing him to surreptitiously glimpse the bonds of those vampires that they came across. Then, when he was satisfied with Chelsea's observations, he would dismiss her, and enter into dances with the more beautiful women in the ballroom. 

He didn't have a reputation as a bachelor for nothing. Yes, he was discreet in his liaisons- as discreet as a King could be, anyway - but Aro was not the type to deny himself the attentions of beautiful women. He was... choosy, perhaps, in bestowing his favour, but not so choosy that women didn't throw themselves in his path. He was a single man, after all, a King without a Queen, and there were many ambitious vampiress' the world over that would happily take up the mantle of his female counterpart.

Not that he wanted a Queen. 

But... There was power in possessing the desirable. Aro was not so arrogant as to assume that he was the ultimate prize: he was a skilled and experienced lover, to be sure, but women tended to see beyond that. They desired the Crown, the right to rule by his side, and they would do almost anything to get it. 

Aro promised his lovers nothing, no assurances of advancement in power or position. But they flocked to him anyway, in high enough numbers that Aro could afford to indulge himself on occasion. Once he'd been able to see the truth behind their motivations. A truly ambitious woman would not settle for the position of lover, and so he was careful to only dally with those who desired him and him alone, with no lofty ideals of a crown. 

Even further from his mind was the notion of a mate. 

He'd seen one brother King wrecked by the loss of his mate and wife. Marcus had devolved into a mere shell of his former self, becoming an apathetic wretch with little interest in the other pleasures that their immortal life had to offer. Both Aro and Caius had cautiously tried to tempt  Marcus into engaging in multiple physical liaisons - with both men and women - and their efforts had been met with enraged denial, hostility and proclamations of their brothers's continuation of life-long celibacy.

Marcus was a broken man. Didyme's death had irreparably shattered something within his psyche, turning a once-ambitious, power hungry, conquistador of a Volturi King into this- this shell of a man. The truth of the matter wasn't known beyond the immediate Royal family; that Marcus had once been the true leader of the Volturi, the engine that fuelled the machine itself. 

And Didyme... sweet guileless Didyme, who had longed to travel and run and thrive within the world that the Volturi had mastered... She had seen what ruling was doing to Marcus - had witnessed how he had grown darker, more calculating and ruthless - and she had wanted to leave. She had wanted them both to leave. When Marcus had refused, Didyme had threatened to go without him. In a fit of uncharacteristic rage at her gall, Marcus had dared her to leave, to see how long she lasted without her mate. In the dead of night, with Marcus, Aro and Caius occupied by yet another war council, Didyme had done just that - she had left.

And she had been killed.

Aro had known his sister well enough to predict where she would go - the Greek ruins in Paestum. She'd ventured there to be close to their heritage, their homeland. Far enough away from Volterra to achieve space from Marcus, close enough to still think herself protected. Sadly, Aro had caught up with his sister just in time to see her body be thrown onto a fire, with the insidious form of Vladimir of the Romanians holding her head aloft. An obscene trophy, dripping with venom that sizzled and popped when it made contact with the heat from the fire, brandished triumphantly in the air, until that, too, had been cast onto the flames.

Aro had given chase, of course, but he hadn't factored in the potency of Vladimir's gift - repulsive magnetism. He'd found himself momentarily frozen, unsure of what to do, of how to act, and had then been filled with the urge to flee in the opposite direction. It was maddening, infuriating even, that he hadn't been able to immediately avenge his beloved sister. 

The Volturi had hit back at the Romanians in the following months, claiming thousands of miles of the latter's territory and driving them further from civilisation and deeper into the shadows.

A decade later, Aro had coordinated a coup from within the heart of the Romanian coven itself, having spent years covertly liaising with some of the unhappier, more peripheral members of their coven. The Volturi had managed to reduce the Romanians' numbers to single digits, even executing Vladimir's own mate in a brutal act of well-deserved vengeance for Didyme's untimely death. 

After the dust had settled, the score somewhat evened, Marcus had never forgiven himself. He had collapsed into nothingness, transforming into the coldly apathetic and essentially useless ruler that he was now known as, and it had been Aro that was forced to step into the vacuum left behind by Marcus' pitiful disintegration. He lived now only in penance, paying obeisance to a woman long dead. He saw himself as unworthy of a true death.

A pathetic and unnecessary exercise in vanity, in Aro's opinion. 

Where he had once been primarily focused on gathering intelligence, and honing the skills and abilities of their forces, Aro had then taken advantage of Marcus' ongoing mental deterioration and assumed control of the Volturi, with Caius' full support. 

 And as much as Aro loved Marcus like a brother, he had never quite forgiven the other vampire for putting Didyme at risk. 

Perhaps even more disturbing than Marcus' endless depression - in Aro's mind - was Caius' perplexing reverence for Athenodora. The two had been a mated pair for so long that it was almost impossible to see where Caius ended and Athena began, some days. Not that Caius would ever admit it, of course, but the blonde King had certainly gone soft when it came to his beloved mate. Caius had even allowed a reputation-destroying rumour to circulate that he kept Athena locked in a tower, drugged into submission by a member of the Guard to ensure her compliance. To protect her from the same fate as Didyme. To prevent her from running. 

Such a thing was absolute nonsense; Athena was very much the Mistress of her own person, she was an autonomous being with enormous influence and control within the Volturi, even having the singular responsibility of managing the Palazzo itself.

Volterra's permanent residents adored Athena. She was witty and dry and dark in her humour, with a warm, angelic beauty that could have stopped traffic. Pale strawberry-blonde hair that tumbled to her hips in decadent waves, delicate and cherubim facial features that would have looked at home on a doll, and a figure so innately feminine and luscious that Caius oft proudly proclaimed that Botticelli had taken inspiration from Athena for his Birth of Venus. 

Yes, she often remained in her tower, but it was by choice, not because she had been lulled into adherence by Corin's happiness-inducing talent. Athena simply had little patience for being the 'token' Volturi Queen: she was one in place of three, and as such was often viewed as a spectacle, a circus act, a mere performing monkey to those visiting the Palazzo.

Her motives were understood by the Kings, and whilst she did frequent the bath house and attend the throne room for Feeding Time, the sole Queen tended to opt to keep to her rooms unless her presence was specifically requested. 

Tonight, she would be on Caius' arm, beautiful and serene, performing her role to the best of her ability. Athena was incredibly perceptive, her intuition second-to-none, and she was Caius' perfect counterpart, the warmth to his usually-cold indifference, the softness to his severity. The two were an ideal match, each balancing the other. It helped that they were still deeply in love, even after millennia together. Caius had never strayed from Athena - indeed, Aro had seen that Caius had never even been tempted - and their relationship remained as passionate and as loving as ever. 

To say that Aro found the concept of mating unnecessary was an understatement. He just couldn't fathom the depth of feeling that was required to love another more than one could love themselves. To put another's wellbeing above his own, to care more for their comfort, their needs... To have one's own sanity dependent on the survival of another... It was baffling. A phenomenon that he never wanted to experience, to be sure. 

He met Chelsea at the entrance to the ballroom. She was an attractive woman, his quasi-date - ash brown hair, a pleasing complexion, a nice figure - and she could be insightful, too, even beyond the fascinating contributions of her gift. Aro straightened his tuxedo jacket - a needless exercise - and nodded at her in greeting, pleased approval in his eyes at her punctuality, and offered her his arm.

"Chelsea - you look lovely. How is Afton this evening?" 

It was an unnecessary question, a polite habit that he had never quite managed to evade. 

At the mention of her own mate, Chelsea ventured a small smile. "He is on duty until 9, sua Maestà," she replied, slipping her hand into the crook of his elbow. "I imagine that he will be along shortly afterwards, to see in the New Year with us." 

"Excellent timing on his part," Aro nodded, knowing full well that he himself had orchestrated it to be so. "Shall we?"

"Si, sua Maestà."

He'd arrived fashionably late, as always, and was immediately assaulted by dozens of unfamiliar scents.

There was one in particular that seemed to stand out above the rest, something floral, yet somehow distinctly edible - a bewitchingly feminine mixture of warm vanilla, cherry blossoms and strawberries, with delicate undertones of white jasmine. It was an intoxicating aroma, one that had venom instinctively rushing to his mouth, and for a startling moment Aro wondered if a human had somehow slipped into the ballroom. He concentrated, searching out the rhythm of a mortal heartbeat amidst the soft patter of dancing feet, and then he frowned. 

Odd.

There were definitely no humans present, but the scent persisted. It was distracting, to say the least, and it took all of Aro's carefully cultivated control to resist the urge to seek out the source.

He looked around, impressed by Athena's talent for outfitting such occasions. She had truly outdone herself. Most of the marble walls of the ballroom had been draped in elegant swathes of shimmering black fabric, with beautiful gold and crystalline candelabras placed strategically around the room. To one side of the space was a long, narrow trestle table filled with various bottles of alcohol and delicate, gold-infused glasses, and Aro wondered just how many of the younger vampires would tonight be discovering their species' best kept secret. Not that the Volturi encouraged people to overindulge, especially not without their supervision. An intoxicated vampire was a dangerous creature indeed. At least in Volterra there was the sufficient manpower available to subdue any resulting issues. 

Aro himself was partial to red wine in particular, though he enjoyed a stiff whiskey on occasion, too. It was a little known - and terribly curious - fact that vampires could tolerate alcohol that was above 15% proof. Alcohol was a poison to humans, a toxin that could and did easily kill them, so in Aro's opinion it made semi-reasonable sense that a human poison could be ingested by a human's natural predator - a predator that was also venomous to humans - without the disgusting need for regurgitation.

Vampire anatomy was quite the fascinating subject. Truthfully, he wasn't entirely sure why vampires could imbibe, and he couldn't exactly launch a bloody research probe into the topic, but life had certainly been more interesting since the discovery had been made. Admittedly, it did take a significant amount of alcohol to affect the faculties of an immortal, more than a human could consume without dying a pathetic and grisly death, but vampiric intoxication could be achieved if one was determined and patient enough. As it was, though, most vampires just partook for the flavour. 

With their wine glasses now in hand, together with Chelsea, Aro slowly worked his way around the edges of the room, and he was beginning to lose count of the sheer number of newly made vampires in attendance.

Well, newly-made was a stretch, perhaps: there were vampires approaching the middle of their second decade since rebirth, but in comparison to Aro's ancient self, these creatures were babes in arms.

On occasion, Chelsea would silently rest her hand on top of Aro's, covertly passing on the observations made through her gift of interpreting the connections between various coven members. Thus far, there had been no-one of exceptional interest, and Aro was beginning to tire of the monotony. 

He stopped briefly alongside Caius and Athena, nodding in greeting. "Fratello. Cara sorella, you are a vision this evening, as always."

Aro pressed a polite kiss to the back of Athena's gloved hand, raising an eyebrow when he rose and noticed Athena's dancing eyes. "Athena? Are you well?"

"I am," Athena tilted her head to the side. "And you? Are you well, Aro? You seem... different, tonight." 

"I am fine," Aro dismissed, trying not to bristle at the ease in which she'd assessed his discomfort. That damned scent - it seemed inescapable, clouding his very thoughts, daring him to make an error. It was annoying and bothersome and - perhaps most disturbing of all - arousing beyond measure. 

"Very well, Aro," Athena agreed, a mischievous twinkle in her eye, "I will believe you." Her gaze sharpened suddenly, her vision shifting surreptitiously over his shoulder. "Sulpicia is here," she warned him, "And has been staring at you since you arrived." 

Aro managed not to groan in frustration. "Wonderful." 

He was certainly not in the mood to entertain an ex-paramour. He'd sent her away decades ago, parcelled her banishment from court as being a Volturi ambassador position to a coven in Japan, and he had hoped that she'd remain there. After all, she hadn't attended the last two of these gatherings, and he hadn't seen her for almost seventy-five years. 

"Renata," Aro muttered, fiddling with his cufflinks, "I require your assistance." 

His personal guard appeared by his side a few moments later, and bobbed a shallow curtsy. "Sua Maestà?" 

"You will keep her away from me," he jerked his head in Sulpicia's direction. "You understand to whom I am referring?"

Renata pressed her lips together to hide an amused smile. "I understand." 

"Excellent," Aro nodded. "Chelsea - shall we continue?"

.

"Don't even think about peeking in the mirror until we're finished," Alice had warned her, even covering the mirror with Bella's discarded dressing gown for good measure. She'd provided Bella with a flowy tube-top to wear for the 'getting ready' portion of the evening, claiming that bra-strap marks and ballgowns did not mix. 

Bella's human dislike of formal events had somewhat carried over into her immortal life. She'd long since mastered walking in heels, thanks to the equilibrium she'd attained during her transition, but she had still been uncomfortable at the thought of wearing an actual gown. 

She'd managed to sit still long enough for Alice to do her hair and makeup, even halting her fidgeting to allow Charlotte to paint her nails - fingers and toes both. She'd had simple, dangly tear-drop-shaped black diamonds hooked into her ears, and that was it as far as jewellery was concerned.

"You won't need a necklace," Charlotte had assured her, fluffing up her wavy auburn bob in the mirror. "The dress and your cleavage will do the work." 

And then came the moment that she'd been dreading; the garment bag containing her dress had been brought into the room. 

She'd held her breath as the zip was slowly lowered, unveiling a beautiful dusty plum creation of silk and tulle with an A-line silhouette. Alice and Charlotte had helped her step into it, manoeuvring bodice over Bella's hips with practiced ease. 

It seemed a simple enough gown, Bella supposed, without embellishment or embroidery, but to her immense surprise, she felt elegant and graceful. Like an actual 27 year old woman, and not the nineteen year old that she was forever destined to remain.

The bodice of the dress was fitted to her mid waist, like a second skin of silk held up by delicate and thin spaghetti straps. It had a suggestive, v-shaped neckline that complimented the ample feminine curves of her upper body, with soft overlapping layers of fabric that added a subtle ruched effect to the bust. 

The skirt was dramatic and voluminous, lined with silk and plumped with multiple layers of tulle. These layers cascaded downwards, in irregular, ruffled tiers, giving the gown a flowing and ethereal appearance. The cinching at Bella's waist accentuated her vampirically-enhanced hourglass figure, before flaring out gracefully and tumbling to the floor. 

Alice had then knelt in front of her, gently raising the skirt of the gown to slip Bella's feet into strappy heels, holding one of the shoes aloft to let Bella see. At first glance, they were basic silver sandals with a ridiculously tall heel, but when Alice turned the shoe to display the back, Bella gasped.

She'd never been a 'shoe' girl, exactly; Bella's favoured items to splurge on were leather jackets. She had an enormous amount of them, and had spent an eye-wateringly large amount of the Cullens' money on building her collection. But these shoes deserved admiring. In typical Alice-fashion, they were red bottomed Louboutins: the portion of the shoe that would hold the rear of Bella's foot, and covering the length of the heel itself, were hundreds of tiny crystals. When she looked more closely, however, Bella could see that those crystals held a subtle but intriguing pattern, having been fashioned into fire itself. Diamanté-embellished flames would flicker at her heels when she danced, and the metallic leather of the straps would shimmer and shine in the light when her toes peeked out from under the dress.

Alice secured the ankle strap on the second shoe and stood, pressing a hand to her mouth and looping an arm around Charlotte's waist.

"She's a masterpiece," Alice whispered, her voice full of emotion, "Look what we did, Char."

Bella rolled her eyes, but smiled at her praise. "Can I look yet?" 

Charlotte immediately shook her head. "Let me and Ali get changed first, and then we'll all look together." 

"Fair," Bella agreed, examining her nails. "Why black?" 

"Not just black," Alice called from their closet, emerging a moment later in a high-necked but entirely backless sea-green gown that hugged her petite figure perfectly, and another pair of Louboutins that matched Bella's own. "Metallic black. To give you some edge." 

Alice presented the back of her neck to Bella, gesturing at the three little buttons that made up the closure of her dress. Bella fastened the buttons carefully, beaming when Charlotte appeared, now also fully dressed. Unlike Alice and Bella, who were both in colour, Charlotte's gown was black and slinky, with a sweetheart neckline and a playful mermaid skirt. 

Bella watched admiringly as the two put on their own jewellery, and then Alice swept across to the covered mirror. "Ready, Bella?"

"As I'll ever be," Bella huffed, but she smiled, and Alice pulled back the dressing gown. 

Bella stared. It was a cliche, but she truly looked like a fairytale princess. The dress, the makeup, the hair... 

Her hair! She'd never imagined that her riot of curls could look so... polished. She reached up a hand to touch, thinking better of it at the last moment when she saw Alice's eyes flash in warning. 

"You won't be able to hide behind your hair," Charlotte unhelpfully pointed out, smirking as Bella sent a faux-glare her way. "That beautiful bone structure of yours will be on full display." 

"We totally did that on purpose, by the way," Alice chirped, linking her arm through Charlotte's in solidarity. "Your face is gorgeous, Bella. And you suit the red eyes more than almost anyone else ever has. They just... fit you." 

Her hair had been styled into a large, voluminous bun, positioned high on the crown of her head. The bun itself seemed to be an elaborately woven creation of intricate glossy loops and interlaced, subtle braids. The front and sides of her hair were sleek and smooth, pulled tightly back to emphasize the angles of her face. The hairstyle had a silken finish, with no loose strands or errant stray curls, giving it a refined and sophisticated appearance.

The updo paired beautifully with her simple earrings and carefully applied makeup, and she had a look of timeless glamour and grace.

Alice had painted Bella's face with a practised hand, using product sparingly but deliberately with the aim to enhance rather than cover. Her complexion was creamy and smooth, with only the lightest dusting of blush to emphasise the faint rosy-hue that her vampiric visage had somehow managed to retain.

Bella's natural bone structure needed no help from contour or bronzer, but accentuating her ruby eyes had clearly been Alice's main focus. The eyeshadow itself was subtle, a soft and glimmering smoky look that darkened towards the outer corners with a small flick of a wing, but the black liner along her upper waterline and several sweeping coats of mascara added the necessary drama. 

Her lips, naturally stained red by her vampirism and already quite stark against her pale skin, had only been lightly glossed, just enough to draw the eye to the arch of her delicate Cupid's bow.  

And then the dress...  It was perfect, emphasising the slimness of her waist, her pert chest, the delicate hollows of her collarbone, the subtle but present tone in her arms. Even the skirt, as intimidating as she would have thought a poofy ballgown would be, the skirt was voluminous enough that any of her missteps in the dances would be disguised, and Bella found herself grateful for the soft layers of fabric that fluttered around her legs. When she moved, there was an iridescent sheen to the tulle that caught the light, setting a glow on the hardwood floors beneath her feet. 

She looked mature and womanly, feminine and confident, and yet there was a certain darkness about her, a sensual, predatory allure that not even Bella herself could deny.  

"...Wow," she said.

"You look like a Queen," Alice agreed, sighing happily at her handiwork. 

.

They approached the ballroom almost as a single coven, with Bella, Peter and Charlotte moving slightly behind the Cullens.

Edward still hadn't looked her directly in the face, though Bella knew that he'd clocked the distinct lack of amber in her eyes. He kept his distance, maintaining an outwardly casual hold on Bree's hand, but the tension in his shoulders was easily observed. 

Carlisle, Esme, Edward and Bree entered first, followed by Rosalie and Emmett, and then Alice and Jasper. Bella bridged the gap between the Cullens and Peter and Charlotte, the sole singleton amidst a company of five mated pairs. She schooled her face into an almost-expressionless mask, with only the smallest hint of a polite smile pulling at the edges of her lips.

Her eyes widened as she took in the sheer size and grandeur of the room, almost faltering in her step until Charlotte gently threaded her arm through Bella's. 

"They have wine," the auburn woman said excitedly, "Come on, you have to try it."

"Wine?!" Bella spluttered, "We can drink?!" 

Charlotte winked. "Only on special occasions, sugar." 

The two separated briefly from the Cullens, returning soon after with three glasses of red - naturally providing one for Peter, too. Carlisle's face remained impassive, but his disapproval seemed evident in the sudden set of his jaw.

Charlotte turned her back to the Cullen patriarch and rolled her eyes, clinking her glass cheerfully against Bella's. "Here's to you, Miss Marie Charlotte Isabella Brandon. Congratulations on your formal vampiric debut." 

Bella took a hesitant sip from her glass, and her eyes widened in surprise. "It's good," she marvelled, taking a deeper drink and subsequently draining the glass. "Really good." 

She almost jumped out of her own skin when there was a gentle tap on her shoulder, turning quickly and smiling at the man in front of her.

"Pardon the interruption, ladies. I was wondering if you would like to dance, Miss...?"

"Bella," she supplied, "I'll dance, but I can't promise that your toes will survive."

The man grinned. "That's a risk I'm willing to take." He extended a gallant hand, and Bella placed hers within his. He lead them into the throng of dancers, guiding her through the steps. "My name is Garrett. We haven't been introduced, but I noticed that you were with the Cullens. Are you a part of their family?" 

Bella considered her answer carefully. "Half in, half out," she settled on, an impish smile on her face at his confused expression. "We're... old friends," Bella elaborated, "But I don't live with their coven." 

"Nor do you follow their unusual diet, I see," Garrett smirked, gently spinning her. "I haven't seen you at a Volturi soirée before." 

"This is my first," she replied, studying the man currently leading her in their formal dance. "So, how do you know the Cullens?"

.

Aro's eyes narrowed with predatory interest as his nose finally managed to locate the source of the scent from earlier in the evening. 

She - and her beguiling scent - floated past him in an elegant cloud of mauve tulle, waltzing with a nomad that Aro knew to be a man called Garrett. 

From this angle, he couldn't see the woman's entire face, but he was certainly intrigued enough by the partial picture to consider calling a premature halt to his diligent schmoozing. He was so engrossed in the woman's movements that he almost bumped into Carlisle, who bowed deeply.

"Forgive me, Sua Maestà," Carlisle offered, "I seem to have stepped into your path by mistake." 

"Ah, Carlisle," Aro smiled thinly, observing the sizeable cluster of vampires surrounding his one-time comrade. "My old friend. It is good to see you, after so long an absence."

Carlisle barely managed not to flinch at the veiled reprimand. "My apologies, your Majesty. My family has been going through a period of great change, in recent years."

"Yes," Aro's eyes narrowed, "I can see that your coven has grown considerably since last we met." 

Carlisle extended a deferential hand towards Aro, a gesture of loyalty that Aro grudgingly appreciated. He took the golden-eyed vampire's hand between his, pausing for a moment as he absorbed the man's thoughts. 

"Appearances are deceiving then, I see," Aro observed, raising an eyebrow. "Not growth, but... a fracture. How interesting."

Carlisle nodded. "Things have been admittedly... difficult, sua Maestà, for quite some time." 

Aro released Carlisle's hand, examining the faces of the vampires surrounding the Stregoni Benefici, and he frowned. "And where is the delightful Isabella? I see her in your thoughts, and yet she is absent from your presence." 

"I believe that she is dancing, your Majesty. Should I-" 

Aro waved a flippant hand in the air, cutting off whatever Carlisle had been about to say. "No, no. That won't be necessary. I am quite capable of locating her for myself." He lowered his voice a little, drawing Carlisle further into his confidence. "I must say, Carlisle, I am... surprised and somewhat disappointed by the turn of events. I had, of course, been informed of young Edward's unfortunate predicament." 

"Your agents were most gracious in permitting my family to offer shelter to Bree," Carlisle agreed cautiously, "She and Edward are now married, and very happy together." 

"And the young Isabella was consequently cast aside," Aro hummed, intrigued by the prospect. He glanced across at the ashen-faced Edward and smiled. "Please accept my heartiest congratulations, dear Edward. May you and your mate have a long and pleasant life together." 

Edward managed to force a smile onto his face. "Thank you," he said quietly, "We appreciate your kind words." 

Aro's expression turned bemused. "We?" He repeated, "Is your mate - is Bree incapable of speaking for herself?" 

Bree stepped forwards, her hands gripping tightly onto Edward's forearm. "My apologies, your Majesty. Edward didn't mean to speak for me... I'm just shy, and this is my first ball. Even our wedding was family only... I couldn't stand the attention." She laughed nervously, the sound awkward and rather forced. 

Aro nodded, already disinterested in the girl that Edward had replaced Isabella with. He levelled Edward with an even stare, well aware of the mocking undertone of his thoughts, and as the pair of telepaths locked eyes, Aro mentally dared him to speak up. Edward looked away, and Aro felt a surge of triumph. 

His gaze settled momentarily on Charlotte and Peter, and he offered them polite smiles of acknowledgement. 

"Well," Aro sighed, as if about to go to some great effort. "I suppose that I should locate Edward's spurned spouse. I daresay that she and I may have a lot to say to one another. Do have a pleasant evening, all." 

He turned abruptly, not giving them the opportunity to reply, and stalked away, eager to lay his eyes on an immortal Isabella Swan. 

The scent was growing stronger as Aro sought out the target of his interest. The scent could wait, Aro thought; he was more determined to speak to the girl that had been set aside by Edward Cullen. That was, until the owner of the scent somehow stepped into his path.

He looked up, a smirk already on his face, and then as he and the woman locked eyes, Aro froze. 

To his immense surprise - and no small amount of horror - he was standing directly in front of Isabella Swan. In all of her vampiric glory, curvaceous and perfect and eternally beautiful. And all of his instincts were somehow suddenly screaming at him. From somewhere deep inside of him, Aro felt a tug, an undeniable pull, and a voice in his head growled Mine. 

She gasped at the sight of him, her mouth immediately starting to form the word 'no' as her brain caught up with her what her body seemed to want. Not him, she wanted to scream, anyone but him.

But that same instinct was undeniable, and as the two stared at eachother for a long moment, they both felt something click into place. Their flinch was mutual. This was not a wanted bond.

Bella did not have the willpower to protest as Aro pulled her fluidly into a dance, the strength of his grip leaving her little room to argue with the force of his desire to gain control over the situation. 

"Your Majesty," she managed, staring at the indent at the base of his throat. "Forgive me, I was distracted, and-"

"Shhh," Aro murmured, holding her against him closer and tighter than propriety allowed. "I see that you still seem immune to my gift, little one. How curious." 

With his firm grip on her hand, he tried to push his way into her mind, to force his way past whatever barrier was successfully keeping him out. Bella's gaze flashed up to his, just as a sharp pressure from inside of her seemed to pierce through and somehow dissolve Aro's persistent mental nudging, like the lancing of a blister. He gritted his teeth at the painful sensation, but a begrudging respect filled his eyes as he took her in properly. 

"Curious indeed," he repeated, though this time it seemed like more of a compliment. "I confess, I am pleasantly surprised, Isabella." 

Bella held his stare, defiant in the face of his crooked smirk. She said nothing, only raising a delicately arched eyebrow. 

He chuckled darkly, amused by her silence. "And how exquisitely fetching you are with your red eyes, cara mia. I had thought to see you tonight with irises of gold: imagine my immense satisfaction to have had my preconceptions disproved. You are full of surprises." 

Despite her efforts to remain unmoved, Bella couldn't quite stop the disgusted wrinkling of her nose. "Vegetarianism wasn't to my taste." 

"I agree," Aro drawled, "I must say... Immortality becomes you, bella Isabella. You are... ravishing."

Bella kept her eyes on his, refusing to be cowed by his flattery. "Thank you."

Aro raised an eyebrow, absurdly pleased by her reluctance. "You are a beautiful dancer."

"Thank you," she repeated, "I'm told that it is all in the leading."

"You're trembling," he observed with a smirk, "Are you frightened of me, little one?" 

Bella's lips twitched slightly upwards at the corners. "Should I be?"

He let out a soft huff of delighted laughter, and then his expression seemed to darken, his mood rapidly flipping into one of deep consideration. "Do you feel it?" His voice was urgent and lowered, clearly for her ears only. "Between us?" 

She gave a single nod in response.

"But do you understand?" His words were strained, almost desperate, and Bella turned her face away, meeting Alice's panicked eyes. 

His grip on her hand and waist tightened to the point of pain, but Bella didn't flinch. 

"You will answer me, Isabella," he rasped into her ear, "Do you understand what has occurred between us?" 

Bella shuddered at the feel of his breath against her neck, cursing her instincts for how drawn she felt to the abominable vampire in front of her. 

"Yes," she said finally, sighing in resignation as she met his gaze again. "Yes, I understand perfectly." 

Aro nodded, satisfied. "You will meet me in my study in the morning. At 8am. We will discuss our... affliction... in private. Yes?"

"Okay," Bella whispered, altogether wishing that the ground would open up and swallow her whole. 

Italian

Sua Maestà - Your Majesty 

fratello - brother 

Cara sorella - dear sister 

cara mia - my dear 

bella- lovely 

Chapter Text

The ball hadn't ended after Aro's demand for Bella to meet him in his study the following morning. 

He simply bowed over her hand, ghosted his lips across her knuckles, and vanished into the crowd. 

For a moment, Bella stood shaken and alone, hidden by the dancers that continued their elegant movements around her. She was bothered and irritated by his countenance, by the way that he'd spoken to her, by his arrogance and pride and his very self. 

And now, what? She was just supposed to accept that that monster of a man was her mate? It was a cruel joke, a pathetic demonstration of the power of fate, and Bella realised that Alice must have known. Or, at the very least, suspected. 

"Learn Italian, Bella." 

"The Volturi are in Italy." 

"You look like a Queen."

That last one stung the most. Annoying, know-it-all pixie with her bloody prophetic visions. Bella wanted to throttle her. 

She walked steadily over to the drinks table and reached past the wine she'd previously enjoyed, grabbing for a crystal decanter of amber liquid and pouring a generous helping into the largest glass she could find. She took a large gulp, relishing the faint burn in her throat from the rich alcohol, and drained the glass in a second motion. 

Bells went for the decanter again, but a smooth, lightly accented voice interrupted her.

"Allow me, signorina," the man said, and Bella looked up curiously at the generous stranger. 

He was obscenely tall, with an aquiline nose and broad shoulders, impeccably attired in a tuxedo paired with a black shirt. Despite her internal struggle with the Aro issue, Bella found herself smiling up at the handsome vampire beside her. 

"I recognise you," she said, curious with the familiarity. "Have we met before?"

"Si, signorina," the man nodded, pouring another large serving into Bella's empty glass. "When you came to Volterra previously - with the Cullen boy? You were a human, then."

Bella nodded in understanding. "My memories of my human life have faded a lot," her voice was quiet, somewhat tinged with regret as she briefly thought on what she'd lost in those early blood-fuelled Newborn years. "I'm sorry, you're gonna have to remind me of your name." 

"Felix, signorina," he smiled, understanding her lack of recognition. "I am Felix, and you are Bella Swan, yes?"

She let out a small, humourless laugh. "Not exactly. Bella Swan died a long time ago."

"Ah," he nodded, "Then, what should I call you?" 

"Still Bella," she grinned, enjoying his slightly confused expression, "The name on my passport these days is Marie Charlotte Isabelle Brandon. Whereas Isabella Marie Swan died of starvation and exposure in the Carpathian Mountains eight years ago." 

To her surprise, he placed his hand on her arm and gave her an inscrutable look. "I am truly sorry for your loss," his voice was empathetic, almost sad, and he sighed. "It is a great shame that rebirth into immortality must be tainted by the pain of forever losing our loved ones. To be a vampire is a wonderful and incredible thing, a true gift, but it is no less difficult to say goodbye to those who have known us before our transitions." 

Bella blinked in surprise, taken aback by his sincerity. "Thank you," she replied softly, "I- I really appreciate that, Felix." 

He smiled at her and offered his arm. "Would you care to walk with me, Miss Bella? I would suggest a dance, but your glass is full and I dare not deprive you of such an exquisite bourbon." 

She let out a small huff of laughter and accepted the proffered elbow. "I don't remember you being this nice, Felix."

"And what do you remember?" He smirked, intrigued by her answer.

"Mostly you smashing Edward into marble," Bella responded nonchalantly, dipping her head to hide her amusement, "And- at least, I think it was you - who called dibs on my blood?" 

Felix grimaced. "My apologies, signorina. That was uncouth of me." 

Bella happened to look up just in time to meet Alice's eyes again; the seer looked chagrined, regretful, but Bella's own gaze hardened into something less than forgiving. Alice flinched, likely imagining their eventual confrontation, and Bella turned away, back towards Felix. 

"No need to apologise," she said breezily, "Back then, everyone told me how delicious I smelled." She stilled as she spotted Aro across the room, having what seemed to be an intense discussion with a voluptuous red-haired woman, and swallowed down the entire contents of her glass in a few swift seconds. "We can have that dance now, Felix. If you still want to, of course." 

He quickly plucked the empty glass from her hands and bowed shallowly, extending his palm. "I would be honoured." 

She laughed quietly, returning his bow with a delicate curtsy, and placed her hand in his. "Lead the way."

.

Aro tried his best not to stare. 

He absolutely did not care who Isabella danced with. It didn't matter if it was Garrett or Felix or even bloody Marcus. He had no claim on her, nor did he want to have a claim on her. A supernatural soul bond was not equivalent to an actual relationship. She could do whatever she liked. As could he. 

Perhaps he'd even find a woman to seduce for the evening. Prove to both himself and Isabella that he had no need of her in his life, that he would remain the Master of his own universe, mate bond be damned. 

But still, he couldn't stop himself from shooting glances in her direction. Especially when the soft, lilting tinkle of her laugh drifted across the room to reach his ears, or her beguiling scent seemed to dance under his nose. It was as if his entire being was suddenly acutely aware of her every move.

If truth be told, Aro was devastated by her beauty, and in more ways than one.

Denying their bond would certainly have been easier to handle if she was more average in her looks. As it was, he couldn't even lie - couldn't claim that he found her ugly or plain or otherwise physically displeasing. She was beautiful, and not in a subtle and subjective 'eye of the beholder' kind of way. No, Isabella's beauty was painfully obvious, undeniable and striking, the type that begged one to take a second look, just to absorb more of the view. 

Her skin was ethereally pale, a gossamer sheet of luminescent ivory stretched over divinely carved bone structure, seemingly lit from within. In the Renaissance, cheekbones like Isabella's were considered the height of fashion and the epitome of good breeding; sharp, precise, sculpted. So extraordinarily symmetrical that every artist worth his paint palette would have had her modelling for their works. 

Her bitten lips were almost too full for her face, and her wide ruby eyes were framed by lashes so dark and thick that they were almost equine in nature.

How had he never noticed her allure before? 

Was she really so different in this vampire form than in her ordinary and fragile mortal body?

And to such a degree that his previously-sound mind was unwittingly lusting after her now? 

It was unacceptable. He hated her for it. 

Loathed the fact that he was even admiring her bloody hair. 

Isabella's dark locks had been pulled back into an elegant and sleek chignon, piled high onto the top of her head in a way that exposed the annoyingly noticeable unmarked curves of her graceful neck.

Contained as it was, Aro only guess as to the length or the texture of her hair. It had been long and curly when she'd been a human, but there was always the possibility that she had cut it prior to becoming an immortal. But the fact that he found himself so interested in this aspect of her was more significant and surprising than anything else.

It irked him beyond measure, this ridiculous instinct that gnawed at his bones, the fathomless biological urge to suddenly know the littlest things about her, yet his mind and heart rebelled together against the tormented whispers of his soul. 

Perhaps it was the bond - perhaps it was just Isabella - but there was something otherworldly about her appearance, an alluring, supernatural quality that was distinctly other, predatory and untamed despite her delicately curvaceous female form. In fact, with her dark hair, pale skin and the length of her elegant neck, Isabella seemed so stereotypically vampiric that Aro half expected to see elongated canines when her mouth next opened in a smile.

And he was not the only man in the room to have noticed how attractive she was. A dozen sets of appreciative male eyes traced her footsteps, enjoying the way she danced in Felix's arms, studying the exposed skin of her shoulders and back.

To his immense irritation, she held his attention effortlessly. 

It wasn't that her dancing was particularly extraordinary, if anything she seemed like a novice discovering a previously-unknown talent, but she moved with a fluid grace that spoke of genuine enjoyment. 

He couldn't even bring himself to properly examine her bare and unmarked throat: it was a bold and provocative visual, the absence of a mating mark providing a loud demonstration of her single status.

Her scarless neck and shoulders were a beacon, a siren song to other men, and Aro couldn't stand it. 

Gods, this bond was already a burden.

Damn her.

How she vexed him, daring to be so comely, with her intriguing impenetrable mind and her demure little smile and that damned twinkle in her eye as she waltzed in Felix's brutish arms.

Her presence here, in his home, in that gown...

He needed her gone. Immediately. 

Needed her far, far away, and as soon as possible, before the undeniable urge to complete the bond overwhelmed the pair of them and they were irreparably tied together for eternity. Aro didn't want to be tied to anyone. Not even someone as unreasonably stunning as Isabella. 

And beyond Marcus and Caius, he couldn't even ask for advice in managing the situation. Wouldn't ask. Vampire soul bonds were seen as sacred by their kind, something beyond precious, a tie to be nurtured, treasured, cherished for all of eternity. To have two souls twine together and become one, to merge one's innermost self with another... it was akin to touching the divine, a spiritual connection that transcended life itself.

If it became public knowledge that the Great Aro of the Volturi was rejecting his fated mate, without even examining if the two of them were compatible... His reputation would undoubtedly suffer, and it would undermine the integrity of the Volturi itself. To have a Vampire King deny his own mating instincts? When those instincts formed the very backbone of their world? Unheard of.

And unspeakably cruel, too, to inflict such a lonely life on the woman that fate had bonded him to. Because a vampire truly mated only once in their lifetime. When Aro denied Isabella, it wasn't just his soul that would be impacted. So, too, would hers. But the thought of being tied to another forever, it was a monumental ask, especially after spending almost 4,000 years alone. To expect Aro to submit to the thrall of a mating bond was a daunting prospect indeed. 

He was so distracted by the entire matter that Sulpicia had somehow managed to corner him - he was going to kill Renata - and was doing her best to entice him back into her bed.

As irritating and ignoble as she had become of late, Aro couldn't deny that Sulpicia was obscenely beautiful. 

She had thick red hair - not auburn, not strawberry blonde or even ginger, but red - almost the colour of freshly spilled blood, and a figure so immensely curvaceous and womanly that she could have been worshipped as a fertility goddess. And she owned those curves, always dressing to highlight the gentle roundness of her stomach, the lush spill of her breasts, the proud pronunciation of her derrière. 

Truly; Sulpicia had the kind of body that the Ancient Greeks would have written poetry about. She was almost aggressively female in her shape, soft and sculpted and sybaritic; wonderfully epicurean, with full pink lips and a sensuous demeanour that could have enthralled even the most devoted of husbands. Her confidence and self-assurance only added to her appeal, never wilting beside the more slender, delicately built members of their kind. 

She was a femme fatale if there ever was one. 

Which was precisely why Aro had wanted Renata to keep the infernal seductress far away from him. Because even he was not immune to Sulpicia's charms, and the woman was an opportunistic viper even on her best days. In Aro's learned opinion, since his own brief liaison with her, Sulpicia had devolved into nothing more than a grasping social climber who attained and discarded lovers at her leisure. She excelled at exploiting people for what she needed and then casting them carelessly off when they had served their purpose.

It was a coarse approach to life, one that Aro found plebeian and repulsive, and Sulpicia was well aware of his perspective on this. 

That did not, however, alter the fact that the infamous creature certainly had Aro in her sights tonight. And she was terribly good at charming her way into almost anything. 

A thought struck him, then, and Aro smirked despite his resolve to appear unmoved by Sulpicia's efforts. Allowing Sulpicia to have her wicked way with him might indeed provide something of an ideal palate cleanser. How better to demonstrate to himself Isabella how little value he placed in their bond? 

An interaction with Sulpicia could prove useful. 

There was plenty of time between now and 08.00. Enough time to saturate himself in Sulpicia's scent and satisfy the desire that Isabella's scent had stirred in him - before he'd discovered it was her scent, at least. 

Sulpicia leaned towards him, trailing a hand down his chest and slowly inclining her head to meet his eyes. "How committed are you to remaining present at this ball, il mio re?" 

"That would depend," Aro replied carefully, narrowing his eyes as Sulpicia moved closer to him.

She smirked. "On...?" 

"On your intentions, cara mia," Aro murmured, his voice dropping into a lower timbre. 

"My intentions are entirely dishonourable, Sua Maestà, I assure you," she purred.

But as Sulpicia's unique scent of moonlit orchids and spice invaded his senses, something in Aro's body revolted against the wrongness of it. This was not the scent he already unwillingly craved, nor the individual that his cock wished to dally with - especially not with the object of his true desire still dancing within eye line. His jaw clenched tight, irritation filling him again as his most basic physiology entirely rejected the notion of an evening well-spent.

Aro sighed, bothered by his lack of control over the situation. His attitude toward Sulpicia shifted subtly, his body language becoming colder and less engaging than before. "I think not," he drawled at last, scorn evident in his tone, "Haven't I already made my opinion on this matter quite clear? I have no further interest in being your bedmate." 

"You did once," Sulpicia persisted, a hint of desperation entering her voice, "We were good together, my King. I recall well how you responded." 

His face curled into a cruel sneer. "Be careful, darling. I am not your anything." He swept away, leaving her sulking behind him as he sought out a glass of brandy and a moment's peace. 

.

Bella returned to her designated rooms as the modified antique grandfather clock softly announced 05.00, having spent the better part of the evening being shown around the opulent Volterra palazzo by Felix.

She wasn't surprised to find Alice waiting for her, perched on the window seat like an anxious statue. Her anger towards the annoying pixie had faded, but Bella still felt disappointed, still felt absolutely blindsided by the fact that Alice had likely known something, even if it hadn't been everything.

"Bella-" Alice tried, but Bella held up a hand.

"Did you know? About... him?"

Alice looked down at her hands. "I think- I suspected," she confessed quietly, "I had seen you two together, here. In Volterra. Just flashes of moments, conversations, disagreements. Nothing that was especially... intimate," Alice elaborated, "At first I thought that you would join the Guard." 

Bella made a frustrated noise. "How long?"

"The first vision was when I saw you again, right after you'd had human blood for the first time. I thought that that action had altered your destiny, set you on a new path towards the Volturi. But then-"

"...Things changed," Bella murmured, leaning back against the door. "You told me to learn Italian."

Alice shifted, turning her face towards the moonlight. "I saw you working closely with Aro," she allowed, "I saw him supporting you to develop your gift. And..." 

"And what?" The younger woman pushed, "What else, Alice?" 

"I saw a kiss," Alice cringed at the anguished look on Bella's face. "Then tonight, I... Tonight, it all made sense." 

Bella picked up what she hoped was an expensive ornament and threw it forcefully across the room, enjoying the sound of it smashing against the opposite wall. She slid down to the floor, her gown pooling around her as she wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her head on her knees. "I never wanted this, Alice. I just wanted to be a normal vampire."

Her words came out as a broken whisper, utterly devastated by her fate. Alice knelt beside her, holding Bella tightly. "So... Aro is your-" 

"Don't say it," Bella protested, "Please. Not yet. I can't hear it. It's too... permanent. Too awful." She took a deep, trembling breath and groaned. "Literally anyone else would have been better. But him?" 

Alice tensed. "Will you go to him?" 

"I kinda have to," was Bella's bitter response, "He's a king." She plucked at the folds of her dress despairingly. "I need to change out of this." 

"I-" Alice paused, hesitating, "I prepared something for you. Just in case." 

Bella nodded mutely, shucking the straps down her shoulders as Alice fiddled with the zip. When Bella stood and stepped out of the circle of fabric, the gown remained abandoned on the floor, a beautiful but sad puddle of luxury. Alice moved across to Bella's closet, emerging a second later with a more casual black dress, a pair of tights and a different pair of heels.

At Bella's raised eyebrow, Alice huffed. "You still need to look nice," she muttered, defensive, crossing to the bureau and selecting a simple lingerie set with a strapless bra. She tossed it to Bella and gestured vaguely. "We should leave your hair like this. It's pretty."

"I don't want to be pretty," Bella grumbled churlishly, "Not for him." But once she was fully dressed in the new outfit, she sat still whilst Alice tidied the stray baby hairs that had escaped the style. She gently changed Bella's earrings into subtle serpentine hoops of gold, the snake eyes decorated with tiny rubies. 

Afterwards, she surveyed herself in the mirror, noting the clinging quality of her new dress with annoyance. The dress was simple and plain enough, all in black, and she was certainly more covered than before, but somehow Bella felt exposed. 

Where the ballgown had exuded grace, this was... different. More mature. Darker, in ways other than just the colour.

An off-the-shoulder boat neckline, again displaying her neck and collarbones, with long sleeves that opened like lillies at her wrists to drape over her hands. The fabric clung to her body like a second skin, hugging and highlighting every lithe curve, and the skirt ended high on her thigh with a subtle flare. The tights on her legs were black but sheer, and the heels that Alice had chosen were yet another pair of Louboutins. These, too, were simple; black suede court-pumps with a rounded toe and a tall heel, but around the ankle was a burnished gold circlet of charcoal pearls, elegantly tying the shoes to her gold earrings. 

"I don't want to do this, Alice," Bella whispered, wringing her hands. "How can he be my ma-" she cut herself off, gritting her teeth. "I don't want him." 

Alice smiled sadly, touching Bella's arm in a gesture meant to comfort. "I don't think he wants this, either."

Despite her own feelings regarding the situation, something deep inside of Bella's chest gave a sharp ache at that thought. That her ma- that Aro might not want her. And for some inexplicable reason, that bothered her. 

What was wrong with her? 

Why wouldn't Aro want to be her mate? 

She touched a hand to her chest, rubbing at her sternum with the back of her knuckles, feeling altogether bewildered and indignant. She was a catch, right? 

Sure, she was no BreeFuckingTanner, but she was hot in her own way, surely? 

Charlotte had once assured her that she was sexy.

"You got a coke-bottle body, sugar. That slim-thick vibe that men these days just die for. Don't be afraid to show it off." 

Bella examined her figure in the mirror. Vampirism had certainly enhanced her features in a positive way, but she'd lost the softness of her limbs in favour of the added muscle tone of a predator. Her breasts were a decent handful - a 30DD in most store sizes - and she had a slim, defined waist. Her hips, backside and thighs were pleasingly curved, Bella supposed, and when her hair was down, it was long and thick, a mixture of full bodied curls and unruly waves, now reaching past the small of her back. Yeah, she could objectively admit that she was physically very attractive, in the same way that all vampires were, but being attractive didn't automatically make her interesting. 

And... Aro was a King. A powerful, worldly, ancient being. He wouldn't be taken in by the charms of her body, no; he'd need mental stimulation from his woman, too. Bella could begrudgingly acknowledge that the man was gorgeous in his own right, with his chiselled jawline, his long, straight nose and those furtive red eyes. She'd never seen him out of a suit - or a tuxedo - but she could tell that he had strong shoulders, and his frame appeared lean. She supposed he'd be toned, too, and if his ridiculous arrogance was anything to go by, she could only imagine what he had between his legs. 

Bella mentally slapped herself at that thought. Despite her extensive smutty reading, she was a very much still a virgin. Technically speaking. 

She didn't care what Aro's cock looked like. And she was absolutely not attracted to him.

He was a pompous, egotistical asshole and he'd threatened to kill her when she was a human. She still remembered how his hand had raised into a claw, ready to strike her down. 

No. She'd walk into this meeting with her head held high, and she'd tell him - as inoffensively as possible - to go and fuck himself. She'd rather be single forever than be with him. 

Still, she adjusted her bra, scooping up her breasts a little more. And she tugged down the neckline of her dress. Just a tiny bit. 

.

Aro was in his study twenty minutes before their designated meeting time.

He had the urge to pace, to move, to run, but he forced himself to remain still, sitting behind his desk with his hands pressed together, fingers aligned and resting under his chin in a pose of deep thought. 

How best to reject the girl without having her alert their entire species of their... situation? 

He briefly considered speaking to his brothers, but quashed that thought almost immediately. The fewer people that were aware of this matter, the better.

Isabella arrived promptly at 07.59, announcing herself with a firm but quiet knock on his study door.

"Enter." 

She wordlessly stepped into the room and closed the door behind her, her red eyes meeting his in an intense moment that made his breath catch. She'd changed out of the ballgown, swapping the ruffles and colour for a sinfully clinging dress of black. It was an excellent choice, complimenting her toned curves beautifully, and a sudden awareness of her proximity unfurled in Aro's gut. The sun had yet to rise and he hadn't bothered with the lights - neither needing nor wanting the distraction of being able to better see the woman he was to cast aside. But in the dim setting of his study, the exposed alabaster skin of her shoulders and neck seemed to gleam, wordlessly tempting him to touch, to taste. 

He was almost overcome by the differences in her. This Isabella was no trembling teenager, uncomfortable in her own skin. This Isabella was very much a woman, a woman that was confident in her body, self-aware and self-assured of her own attractiveness. 

The Isabella here, now, was not the frightened eighteen year old who had cowered before him, passionately pleading that Aro take her life in place of Edward Cullen's. Despite the fact that she'd stopped aging a mere six months after their interaction in the throne room, she seemed so much more than before. She appeared remarkably older, more mature, darker somehow. The poise she now possessed as a vampire gave her a certain predatory allure, a sensual and womanly appeal that she had lacked as a human. 

He wanted her.

He gestured vaguely at the chair opposite his own, not trusting his own mouth and hoping to keep the desk between them for the majority of the unpleasant but necessary interaction.

"You wanted to speak to me, your Majesty," Bella stated, appearing perfectly comfortable in his private quarters. She perched in the offered seat, crossing her legs at the knees in a way that inched up the hemline of her dress even further, clasping her hands demurely in her lap.

Bella looked across at him expectantly, her head tilting slightly to the side. 

Aro stood in a rapid, fluid motion, eager to distract his baser urges from focussing on the sheer nylon that caressed Isabella's thighs, or the pearlescent length of her bare neck.

"I appreciate your punctuality," Aro offered eventually, glad of the neutral topic. "Thank you for meeting with me, and at such short notice."

He retreated to his minibar, pouring them both an ample helping of bourbon into crystalline tumblers. He set her glass down in front of her, retaking his seat behind the desk, an impenetrable and imposing figure of authority that seemed to dominate the entire room. 

"Of course, your Majesty," Bella responded evenly, visibly unmoved by his display, "I am at your service - as are we all." 

"Please, let us dispense with the formalities," he conceded, knowing he'd need her to be relaxed enough to cooperate with his intentions.

Bella nodded, but she eyed the amber liquid warily, dubious of his unexpected courtesy. 

Wise indeed, Aro thought, managing to quell his smirk. "I took the liberty of providing you with a drink, piccina. I noticed that you seemed to enjoy this particular bourbon at the ball."

Her posture relaxed slightly. "It's not poisoned or anything, right?" She was only half joking, and Aro barked out a bitter laugh.

"Alas, if only it were that simple, Isabella." 

Bella rolled her eyes at his casual response to her potential death, lifting the glass to her lips and taking a deep drink.

"I confess, I am curious. I wish to know more about your current circumstances," Aro began, quirking his head to the side, "Tell me - after your last departure from Volterra, what became of your relationship with the young Cullen?" 

Bella let out an unladylike snort and shook her head. "Who, Edward?" 

Aro nodded, bemused. "Naturally."

"We got back together," she shrugged, draining her glass and setting it carefully down onto his desk. "And then he found his mate, and we broke up."

"I'm sure that there is more to it than that," he chided her. "There can be no secrets between us now, cara mia." 

Bella's expression hardened at his casual use of the familiar phrase. She raised her chin in defiance. "I wanted our relationship to progress. To become more intimate, more... physical, before my change, whilst I was still human. Edward refused, but agreed to try and consummate our relationship, if we got married first. So... He proposed. And I accepted. Reluctantly." 

Aro raised an eyebrow. "He denied your... advances?" His gaze travelled over her lazily, another careful and appreciative inspection of her figure. "A foolish boy, indeed." 

She prickled under his blatant perusal, standing quickly and reaching for her empty glass. She stalked over to the minibar, pouring herself a larger serving of bourbon than before. 

"By all means," Aro drawled, "Do help yourself." 

Bella kept her back to him, unknowingly allowing him to stare unabashedly at her shapely thighs and the curve of her backside.

"Two days after he proposed, he met Bree. Our relationship formally ended three days later, but it was over the moment he saw her for the first time." She artlessly knocked back the alcohol, turning to lean against the bar. "But, of course, I still had to be changed. With or without Edward."

"That cannot have been easy for you," Aro allowed, "To experience such a loss of control. To be faced with an eternity, without your amore immortale, when you had already sacrificed so much for his sake."

Bella glanced briefly over her shoulder at him, surprised by his succinctness and accuracy. "It wasn't," she said softly, "I... lost myself, for a while. Played the role I had to, so that my death could be believably staged. The details are hazy, now... But I ended up at one of the Cullen properties in Croatia, with Alice and Jasper, and Peter and Charlotte. They helped me through my early years. It was... difficult. For all of us." 

Aro nodded, considering this. "And yet, you do not feed as the Cullens do." 

"No," Bella agreed with a scornful huff, turning to face into the room, though she avoided his gaze. "You're right, I don't. I tried... For their sake, I tried for a long time to be like them, to be a Cullen. But their lifestyle, going to school, pretending to be a family... It wasn't for me. After a while, I realised that I didn't need to be a Cullen to be happy, and I've been feeding from humans since." 

"A wise choice," he acknowledged, "Animal blood..." he wrinkled his nose, "Well, suffice to say that I have never understood." 

"It's disgusting," she said wryly, absentmindedly rubbing at the cold ache in her sternum. "I've never looked back, anyway. Feeding that way..." she paused, feeling oddly like she was about to make a great confession. "I was out of control. For two and a half years, drinking animal blood... I was like an animal myself. Rabid. Feral. Completely uncivilised. Since I made the switch, I've found me again. I've accepted who and what I am. I'm... content." 

Aro's hands steepled beneath his chin. "And your relationship with the Cullens, these days?" 

"Weird," she replied with a careless shrug. "Mixed. Fragile, because of my diet. Peter and Charlotte, Alice and Jasper... they are my family. The family I've chosen. I'm friendly with Emmett. I exchange awkward emails with Carlisle and Esme, mostly about my travels and my bachelor's degree."

"And with the young telepath?" His curiosity was tinged with something else, an emotion that Bella couldn't quite identify. 

"Edward and I don't speak," she clarified. "At all. Ever." Bella looked up, meeting his eyes again. "Why am I here, your Majesty?" 

If her sudden directness had thrown him off, he didn't show it.

Aro sighed. "There is a bond between us," he stated, "A soul bond. You understand this, do you not?"

She nodded. The air between them seemed to heat, their connection subtle but evident, despite their individual intentions to reject the other. 

"Then, I feel I should assuage your mind of any foolish romantic notions involving this.. inconvenience. I have no intention of being your longed for happy ending, Isabella. This is not the beginning of our grand love story. You and I will never be together," he told her, holding her gaze, half expecting to see her crumple at his words. 

But Bella stood stoic and unmoved, her face an expressionless mask despite the slightest narrowing of her rather lovely eyes. 

Aro continued, "You need not take my attitude personally, however. It is not you that I reject. You are a beautiful woman - I would be blind to not see how attractive you are. This immortal form of yours..." he trailed off, his eyes skimming over her body again. "You were born to be thus. And your immunity to my gift, well... that, too, is significantly appealing. Indeed, were it not for this wretched bond between us, I would not hesitate in seducing you. No," Aro shrugged, "The fact is that I do not want a mate. Any mate." 

Despite the conviction in his voice, something within Aro rebelled against his words. The bond between them seemed to tighten, a physical manifestation of revolt at Aro's rejection, and Bella swallowed at the sensation. The muscles in her legs tensed, as if to propel her forwards, but she stood still, absorbing what he had said. 

She was glad, she decided. Happy, even. Her lips twitched upwards at the corners, enjoying his expectant expression. What, did he think that the was going to fall to her knees and beg him to accept her? To claim her as his mate?

Absolutely not.

Aro raised an eyebrow at her prolonged silence. "Have you nothing to say?"

"You are a king," Bella replied, sounding almost amused, "I'm not stupid enough to risk offending you."

In spite of himself, Aro smirked. "Such wise words, from one so young. Surprising." He gestured vaguely. "Well then, I formally give you leave to speak freely of this matter in my presence, lest you become tempted to disclose our little secret to anyone else." 

"Alice already knows," Bella pointed out blithely, "She saw it." 

"Alice Cullen knows her place," he said, a dark edge to his words. "Tell me, then - are you disappointed by my decision? Did you hope for a grand and romantic gesture? A bite on your neck for the world to see?" His voice was arrogant and faintly mocking, and Bella seemed to suddenly remember that she despised the man across from her. 

She raised an eyebrow. "Honestly?" 

Aro nodded, indicating with a wave of his hand that she should continue.

"I hoped for a different man," she said bluntly, her truth ringing out as she calmly met his gaze. "I can think of at least four from the ball alone that would have been preferable to this."

Aro stood, his posture tense. "Who?" he demanded, altogether hating the jealousy that twisted his insides, "Who could you possibly prefer over a king?" 

Bella smirked at his ire. "You'll never know."

His eyes travelled over her with newly found appreciation. "And yet, your reticence somehow only serves to intrigue me further. Desire is the most curious of beasts." 

Bella ignored him. "So what happens now?"

"Nothing will happen," he asserted. "You will return to your life, as I will return to mine. There is no need for either of us to ever cross paths again." 

"That works for me," Bella shrugged, pleased. "The less I have to see you, the better." 

"I will financially provide for your needs, of course," Aro went on, as if she hadn't spoken. "Claimed or no, you are my mate, and I would look after you, should you allow it."

Bella got the distinct impression that it wouldn't matter whether she allowed it or not. Aro clearly saw it as his duty to provide for her, regardless of her opinion, and she scoffed, appalled. 

"No, no, no. No, thank you. I don't want your money. I don't want anything from you."

He tsked. "Come now. Swallow your pride, piccina. This is the least that I can do in reparation, given that I am denying your mate claim."

"This isn't about my pride," Bella scoffed again. "You don't need to buy my silence. I don't want anyone to know about this fiasco either." She shook her head incredulously. "You're denying my claim? Please. What is actually happening here is a mutual rejection of this ridiculous bond. Do you think I want to be mated to you, of all people? I happen to strongly dislike you. You once tried to kill me. Not to mention your reputation-"

"Careful now," he interrupted her in a warning tone, but his eyes glittered with mirth at her response. "I am willing to allow a degree of freedom in your expressions, given our... connection. But I would ask that you refrain from outright insulting me. And to my face, no less." He let out a manic burst of delighted laughter. "Although, I must confess, I find your blatant and outright disdain of me to be quite refreshing. Truly, Isabella, it is a rare thing indeed for my to encounter someone who so openly displays such hostility towards me. I find your attitude to be exceptionally amusing. Endearing, almost."

"Of course you do," Bella muttered, rolling her eyes. "Stronzo presuntuoso."

She was deliberate in her use of Italian to insult him - there could be no question whatsoever as to how she felt about his attitude. And then he was in front of her, finally giving in to the urge to be close to her, crowding her back against the cabinet of the minibar, his hands resting on the wood at either side of her hips, caging her in without actually touching her. The heady pheremones of their bond bloomed between them, his sudden proximity taking Bella entirely by surprise. His scent filled her nose, a luxurious and decadent aroma of musk, sandalwood, amber and eucalyptus, with a rich undertone of something that complimented his age, like fresh ink on parchment paper or the perfume of old books. 

It made her head spin with its potency, her knees weakening as she inhaled and tried not to collapse. She could feel his power, the aura of his masculine, regal authority seemingly pressing down on every part of her physiology. Her body begged her to submit, to entice. Her eyes grew heavy, seeing a light in his eyes that made her burn, and she dipped her head, eager to avoid his gaze. 

But Aro wouldn't allow it. He rested a knuckle beneath her chin, gently inclining her head to bring their lips within touching distance.

"You are a brave little one, aren't you?" Aro's rasped, enchanted by her daring. "So very beautiful and bold." 

He stepped further into her personal space, pressing the entire length of his body against hers, letting her feel the evidence of his arousal. She bowed backwards, both intimidated and intoxicated by his nearness, her hands reaching to grip onto his lapels, unsure if she wanted to pull him closer or shove him away.

Aro's free hand grasped her waist, his own eyes falling to half mast as he breathed in her desire.

"I could kiss you," he murmured, stroking a finger along the edge of her face. "Just once. You would let me: I can see it. I can taste it."

"What my body might want is not the same as what I want," Bella said, grinding out the words between clenched teeth as she desperately fought the instinct to melt into him. "And I want no part of this. Of you."

He smirked; the expression was crooked, wolfish, predatory.

It did things to her.

"Methinks the lady doth protest too much," Aro whispered, mocking her. "I can see the need in your eyes, dolcezza."

Aro might have been a master of seduction, but Bella was not totally innocent.

Refusing to be the only one affected, Bella tilted her head to the side, further exposing the expanse of her pale throat, trailing her own hand coyly up his chest until her pointer finger grazed the base of his neck, just above his open collar.

"And I could kiss you," she breathed against his mouth, throwing his words back at him, "And you'd let me, wouldn't you?"

Intoxicated by her response, Aro leaned in, fully intending to capture her lips and ravish her mouth with a kiss that left her trembling. But Bella twisted at the last possible moment, turning her face away from his, and Aro's kiss met her neck. 

She let out a strangled moan of surprise, the sensation of his mouth against the skin of her throat making her core flame with want.

Aro growled against her, simultaneously annoyed and bewitched by her act of defiance, his teeth grazing her flesh. Bella gasped, her knees buckling, and for a second, she pulled him closer, some desperate instinct inside of her eager to receive his bite. 

His hand on her waist clenched tightly, pulling her more firmly against his erection, and it was enough to bring Bella back to her senses. She shoved him away, her eyes wide with confusion and arousal. Aro blinked at her sudden force, faltering in his step as he realised what he'd nearly done.

He'd almost bitten her. Almost claimed her. 

"Leave," he ground out, turning his back to her as he grasped at the strands of his self control. "Go back to Croatia. Now." 

Bella fled.

Italian:

signorina - Miss 

si- yes 

il mio re - my king 

Sua Maesta- your majesty 

amore immortale - immortal love 

piccina - (a variant of) little one 

stronzo presuntuoso - presumptuous asshole