Giving me a furious glare, Bella ran to Edward's side to help him up. I turned back to Edythe, guilt flickering across my face. I gave her an apologetic look for my outburst, but she didn't seem upset — not really. Knowing her, she probably agreed with most of what I'd said.
When I looked back toward the thrones, I saw that the one I had spoken too now stood before the center seat. The other two thrones were no longer empty.
The vampire on the left had dark brown hair that fell to his shoulders and an expression so lifeless it almost radiated boredom. He barely seemed present, his gaze unfocused, like he'd already lived long enough to lose interest in anything new.
The throne on the right held someone younger in appearance — his features smoother, his posture sharper — but his hair was white, nearly the same shade as mine.
It was hard to tell their heights while they sat, but the one in the center seemed slightly shorter than the others. His hair was glossy black, falling straight to his shoulders. His expression was calm, pleasant even, though something about it made my skin crawl.
Their eyes drew me the most — all the same shade of cloudy red, as though centuries had dulled the color behind a thin layer of mist.
And their skin… their skin wasn't like any vampire I'd seen before. Still pale, but not matte — glossy, almost translucent. The torchlight didn't just reflect off them; it passed through, scattering faintly, like light striking glass or the surface of a pearl. They looked fragile, but I knew better. Fragility that old was never weakness — it was refinement, the kind that outlasts time itself.
As I was inspecting our hosts, a side door opened, admitting another small group of vampires. Through the doorway, I caught a brief glimpse of what looked like a desk — a receptionist's desk — with a woman standing beside it.
I couldn't be sure, but the glimpse I caught of tan skin told me she was human.
Weird.
My attention shifted back to the newcomers. The lead figure removed his hood, revealing another vampire who, like Jane, looked far too young for the authority he carried. His features were almost identical to hers — sharp, pale, ageless.
This had to be Alec, the brother Edythe had once mentioned.
He walked directly to his sister, kissed each of her cheeks, and said with a smirk, "No fair — you found him first." His crimson eyes swept across our group. "And more than we expected."
The boy turned to the man standing before the center throne and knelt.
"Father Aro," he said, his tone respectful, "forgive my tardiness. I thought our guest would be farther from the square." He gave an accusing glair at Edward.
The black-haired leader's voice was smooth and indulgent. "No apologies needed, dear one. Join your sister. You've only missed the opening act of this delightful story."
He turned his gaze toward Edward, his expression lighting with false warmth. "Dear boy, aren't you relieved now that we did not grant your request yesterday? It would have been such a pity."
The man began to step down from the raised platform that held the thrones, his movement graceful, deliberate.
A small girl slipped to his side, half-hiding behind him but never breaking contact — her fingers brushing his sleeve as though the touch was necessary.
"And this must be Bella," he said, his voice all silk and sympathy. "Such a wonder to see her alive. You seemed so certain when last we spoke…"
He paused, the faintest sigh escaping him. "I felt disheartened by your pain."
Aro descended the last step, his presence filling the chamber in a way that had nothing to do with his size. He moved with an elegance that was almost hypnotic, like each motion had been rehearsed for centuries.
Edward stood tense, shielding Bella slightly with his body.
The vampire's smile deepened at the gesture. "Ever the protector," he murmured approvingly. "How very human of you."
Aro then turned to Alice, "My dear Alice... How I have yearned to meet you. Edward's memories of you provided me with wonder untold in all my years."
I heard Edward explaining to Bella that Aro could read every memory a person had at a touch.
When he finished telling her, Aro broke in, "But dear Bella, it would be so much more convenient if I didn't need to touch someone. Much like young Edward here, when I was young, I could only hear a person's current thoughts. It took years to get to where I am now. It makes me wonder... Will Edward advance as I have as the years pass?"
Then his eyes slid to Edythe, and his smile sharpened. "Ah, and let us not forget the stunning powers of the beautiful Edythe. The same gift as your brother, yet with the ability to silence it at will. And more still — the power to bend others to your will with but a glance and a word... Magnifico."
Aro's gaze drifted toward me then, lingering for a single heartbeat. He said nothing aloud, but I caught the flicker in his expression — a shadow of uncertainty, curiosity tempered by something that looked almost like caution.
He wasn't sure what to make of me yet.
And maybe that unsettled him more than he'd admit.
As if realizing he'd lingered too long, Aro turned sharply, his cloak whispering across the floor as he climbed back toward the platform where the three thrones waited.
"Come, brothers," he called, his tone bright and eager again. "Tell me — what do you think?"
I nearly laughed when I noticed the little shadow clinging to his side, still trying to keep pace with him. She barely came up to his chest, her small hand gripping his sleeve like an anchor while he moved with unpredictable energy.
Aro stopped at the throne left from the center and extended his hand to the vampire who sat there — the one whose brown hair brushed his shoulders, his expression so utterly bored it was almost impressive.
The vampire sighed and lazily raised a hand. He touched the center of Aro's palm with one finger, then dropped it again. His face didn't change, not even a flicker of emotion.
"Truly, brother," he said in a low, detached voice. "It is a wondrous sight to see. Your excitement is… infectious."
At my questioning glance, Edythe responded quietly. "Marcus can see the bonds between people," she murmured. "Apparently the ones between all of us — even you and Edward — are exceptional for our kind."
On his way to the final throne, Aro's smile brightened even more. "So convenient, to not have to touch someone to know their thoughts. I thought I was far past jealousy." He shook his head slightly as he extended his hand toward the last of the three leaders — Caius, I assumed.
Whatever Caius said, it clearly didn't please Edythe or Edward. Edythe's hand tightened around mine, her grip strong enough to crack bone if she wished. I was suddenly glad I hadn't let go of the fire still coiled inside me — the same fire I'd used to literally break Edward's face minutes before.
Aro's smile dimmed as he straightened. His eyes found Edward again, studying him — or more precisely, the arm he had wrapped protectively around Bella's waist.
"How can you stand so close to her like that?" Aro asked, his voice soft, curious, dangerous.
Edward's answer came steady, though his tension was visible even from here. "It's not without effort."
Aro's expression turned wistful, almost mournful. "But still… la tua cantante. What a waste."
Edward gave a short, humorless laugh. "I look at it more as a price."
Aro arched a brow. "A very high price indeed."
"Opportunity cost," Edward replied.
The words seemed to amuse Aro more than they should have. His laughter filled the chamber, light but unsettling, echoing faintly against the vaulted ceiling.
"If I hadn't smelled her through your memories," he said at last, "I would never have believed the call of anyone's blood could be so strong. I've never felt anything like it myself. Most of us would trade much for such a gift, and yet, you..."
"Waste it." Edward finished, his tone sarcastic.
Aro laughed again. "Ah how I have missed my friend, Carlisle! You remind me of him...only he wasn't so angry or broody."
I chuckled at that last bit, but everyone ignored me, well Edythe gave an agreeing clench to my hand.
Aro's laughter faded, though the smile stayed. His gaze slid once more to Bella, curious and sharp.
"And yet," he said softly, "she lives. A human who knows our secret — surrounded by immortals. How… extraordinary."
Bella stiffened, but didn't look away. "I'm not a threat to you," she said quickly, her voice steady even as her heart hammered loud enough for all of us to hear.
Aro's expression warmed, like a teacher amused by a student's confidence. "No threat? Oh, my dear child, you are a threat. But not through malice. You are a variable in a carefully balanced equation. Mortality tends to… complicate things."
He turned slightly toward his brothers. "Caius, Marcus — what say you? A human who knows our kind?"
Caius's answer came sharp and immediate. "It is forbidden." His red eyes burned with disdain. "The law is clear, brother. You indulge too much in sentiment."
Aro's smile faltered, though his tone stayed light. "Ah, yes, the law."
Marcus didn't bother to lift his gaze. "It would be cleaner if she were silenced," he said flatly, as if discussing the weather.
My hands clenched before I realized it. The fire under my skin stirred again — an instinctive readiness, though I forced it down.
Aro waved one hand lightly, as if brushing away smoke. "Clean, perhaps. But hardly interesting."
His eyes found Bella again, gleaming. "You see, my dear, some rules are… flexible. A human who knows of us can live — under certain conditions."
Caius made a disgusted sound. "You would gamble the secrecy of our entire kind on curiosity?"
"On potential, brother," Aro corrected smoothly.
He turned to Alice, and the change in his tone was immediate — reverent, hungry. "Which brings us, my dear, back to you."
Alice met his gaze, calm but wary. "You already know what I see."
"Yes," Aro said, stepping closer, his eyes alight. "But seeing it through your eyes is quite another thing. May I?"
Alice hesitated for half a second before offering her hand.
Aro's laughter rippled through the chamber again as he took her hand between both of his. For several seconds he stood perfectly still, eyes closed, expression shifting through curiosity, delight, and something that looked disturbingly like joy.
When he released her, his voice was hushed, almost awed. "Ah… she will join us."
Bella blinked. "What?"
"Your future, my dear," Aro said, smiling faintly. "Alice sees you changed — remade. So our little problem solves itself."
Caius hissed, unimpressed. "So says a vision. And if the vision changes?"
Aro only shrugged, unconcerned. "Then we shall revisit the matter. But for now…" He spread his arms, voice lilting again. "No laws broken. No blood spilled. I am quite satisfied."
I exhaled slowly, tension bleeding from my shoulders, though I didn't dare relax fully. The way Aro's eyes flicked between us — between me, Edythe, and Bella — told me he wasn't finished cataloging his curiosities.