** Disclaimer-
I do not claim any rights to the characters, or references made in this story. All credits go to the author of the Twilight series - Stephanie Meyer.
However, I do claim the rights to the storyline of this story and any additional characters aside from the ones feature in Twilight as mine.
Sacrifice contains mature adult content that is not suitable for anyone under 18. Please be advised. If dark romance, angst and sex content disturb you, please do not read.
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Thank you.
Prologue
Dreary echoes of faint chatters could be heard resonating off various drunken men and women below. Beyond the closed bedroom doors of a dimly lit room, crystal wine glasses filled with blood laced liquor met the regal lips of 200 attendees, all gathered in stressed unison on a chilly crescent moon of a cloudy November sky.
Tonight, they feast, they drink and they sacrifice for the celebration of Edward Cullen and Isabella Swan.
Just one week prior, the hasty decision was made and finalized between both delegates of each houses in hopes of bringing truce to the Crusade once and for all. Over the last two centuries, a raging war between the stone carved caves of the Undead and the surrounding rivers of Mystics has brought nothing but endless nights of gruesome deaths and bloodshed throughout the lands. The war was a ghastly battle between earth and water over the grounds of Volterra, hatred raging generation after generation of bloodlines. It was a fight for territory, power, and revenge for lost loved ones between these two natural elements of life- earth, and water -vampires, and their peacekeepers.
Times gone by, these two elements once originated from the heavens above as gifts endowed to the universe, both meant to exist harmoniously in unison as the foundation of good and bad among the Volturi natives. The vampires were cast to rule the lands, granted with the permission to procreate and establish life among the planes of Volterra. Whereas, the Mystics were peacekeepers, guardian angels sent by the Heavens above in order to ensure that there was peace throughout the lands. The Mystics provided the Vampires with ancient, purified blood, and in return, the Vampires kept the Mystic's life source alive by allowing themselves and their offspring to be tamed of their hunting instincts by cleansing in the holy Mystic waters running throughout the borders of the land.
The Gods had destined that both species drew life from one another, for neither shall live if the other dies.
However, through decades of corruption, scandals and treachery among the rulers of both species, the once united kingdom of Volterra began to fall apart. Hatred was formed, resulting in blood vendettas that lasted for two centuries, sparing not even the unborn.
Countless innocent lives were taken as a result of this deadly Crusade, and over the expansion of thousands of years, the lost souls of victims and unaccounted deaths began to rise, disrupting the balance of Heaven and Hell itself. There were those born innocent that were forced to kill among the evil, sinning their hands in blood, growing more and more evil with each kill. Whereas those already evil fell deeper into the heaves of darkness, tarnishing their already diminishing souls into becoming a foul entity of their own.
Alas, the Gods came to a decision and signaled their commands in order to end this Crusade once and for all. In the shadow filled depths of the Volterra mountains, and the murky castle beneath Mystic waters, enchanted flames engulfed the temples of the imperial grounds. Once extinguished, the ashes formed the inescapable terms that neither side dared to violate.
Three thousand four hundred fifty six. Three thousand four hundred fifty seven.
It had been almost an hour since Isabella sat waiting, rigidly perched on top of oxblood satin sheets. She was beginning to grow tired of counting the flickering flame of a lonesome candle, resting on top of the dresser across from the bed. She studied the light source with impassive interest as it fluttered left and right. With each draft of air that blew through the half open window, the candle created eerie shadows that danced all around the small room.
She shifted her attention to her pale fingers that were currently gripped tightly on to the white lace material of her dress. Each of her fingers was skillfully wrapped in expensive material; the interlacing patterns meant to be adorned by the highest ranking nobles of Mystic people.
Earlier in the night, she arrived alone at the caves of Volterra wearing only a teardrop pendant. She was naked and draped in a sacred feathery cloak, the traditional apparel of her people during marriage sacrifices. She laid face up and immobile on a crystallized platform, her russet hair cascading downwards, gracefully along one side of the platform's edge. She was heaved into the cave's opening by the enchanted power of flowing mist and water. From there, half a dozen deus, vampire slaves, escorted her to an underground bathing chamber where she was immediately serviced to a bath. Then, the slaves adorned her in a revealing gown, the Volturi's version of a wedding dress. It had been an unbearable experience, almost painful to say the least. She recalled helplessly standing there like a puppet, staring lifelessly into the wall before her, as the women prepped her in every way.
Upon finishing her transformation, they guided her through a narrow hallway that led into a single bedroom chamber. They sat her on top of the large bed, and then without another glance, quickly scurried away.
Isabella waited until she was finally alone in order to reveal the true purpose of the water crystal pendant chained around her neck. Without a thought, she snapped it in half. Upon breaking, the pendant revealed a fine white powder, the most toxic poison from the water lilies of her Mystic land. She wasted no time by ingesting the substance into her body and closed her eyes with bitter relief. Finally her mission was accomplished. She knew that by the break of dawn, she would have successfully accomplished her assassination of the prince. Come sunrise, she would die along with her future husband.
Now all that was left for Isabella to do was to patiently wait or his arrival. It had been over an hour since she ingested the poison and if her calculations were correct, the substance should be in her bloodstream by now. She was beginning to feel faint, her heartbeat rapidly slowing as her vision began to blur. Isabella had to steady her head by leaning against the bedpost, in order to prevent herself from collapsing.
If this man took any longer, she was afraid that she would not make it on time in order to see her mission through.
At that exact moment, the bedroom doors opened with a loud thud against the wall. Immediately, a gust of icy cold air rushed into the room. At last, the immortal prince is here.
Prince Edward Cullen stood in front of the bedroom door, debating on whether or not he should go in. He had spent a majority of the night drinking his mind away, pointlessly mingling with drunken guests in order to prolong this inevitable moment when he must see her.
Everything had happened so rapidly these past few days that he did not have time to register his appalling situation. Tonight was the night he was forced to sacrifice his freedom and wed his people's ultimate enemy- a royal Mystic princess he had never seen, spoken to, or know anything about.
Edward cringed at the prospect of having to spend all of eternity with some horrendous witch. The thought of having to drink from her blood later on made him sick to his stomach. How did he get himself into this situation anyways? Why were the Gods punishing him, of all people, in order to treaty this war?
He glanced over at the corner of the room and saw her sitting on top of his bed. Briefly, he noted long strands of curled hair that was entwined with pieces of gemstones. The thick locks cascaded down her small frame. Even after making a loud entrance, she still sat with her back to him, staring aimlessly at the wall before her. His bride clearly did not want to acknowledge his presence at all.
With forced efforts, Edward walked quietly into the bedroom and closed the doors behind him. He set his glass of blood wine onto the dresser next to the door, and made his way to the window in order to drape his cloak onto a hook. Turning around to look at her, he couldn't help but consider the prospect of making a run for it through the window. How can freedom be so close, yet so far away?'
he thought, eying the mountain terrains outside.
With a heavy sigh, he hesitantly walked across the room to his bride. With each long stride, his heavy foot steps echoed soft thumps throughout the room. Once he got close enough to reach her, with a steady hand, he firmly placed it on her shoulder in order to catch her attention.
A startled gasp escaped Isabella's lips. Immediately, she jerked away from his touch. When she finally turned around, she made eye contact with his blood shot eyes.
To his unexpected surprise, instead of coming face to face with a horrendous creature, what Edward saw instead was a strikingly beautiful woman in front of him. The princess had a delicate face, sharp nose and mesmerizing brown eyes that were currently filed with terror. Unable to look away from her, he stood there mesmerized by the creature he saw.
At last, in flesh was Prince Edward, her future husband to be. He stood almost a feet taller than her, in all of his royal crimson glamor. There was no doubt in Isabella's mind that he was handsome, with tousled chestnut hair that brushed slightly over his forehead and a defined jaw line. However, regardless of his appearance, she knew better than to approach the deadly man. In a quick movement, Isabella stood up and began to nervously back herself away from him, until her back met with the chilling concrete wall. The room began to spin rapidly from the poison circulating throughout her system. Beyond her control, she was forced to place both of her palms against the wall in order to steady herself from falling over. Fear crept even more in her dark eyes as she stood there, helpless with no where to go.
"I'm not going to hurt you," Edward whispered, slowly pulling both of his hands in front of him. He had no intentions of frightening her and prayed that his gesture would prove that he did not plan on stepping any closer. Edward definitely did not expect her to respond this way. He knew that she was afraid, especially after being forced into the enemy's clan. Regardless if they've never met before, their species were bred to hate one another. He understood, that like him, she had no choice in this arrangement either.
Originally, he only wanted to capture her attention in order to civilly discuss his plans with her. The plan involved making their marriage arrangement as manageable as possible for both sides involved. However, as soon as she saw him, she quickly backed away from fear, and looked as if she was about to faint at any given moment. Her face was devoid of all colors and her lips were ghostly pale. She was breathing heavily, making it easy for Edward's sharpened senses to hear the rapid heartbeats resonating off her chest.
With a small step forward, Edward said, "Look, there's no need to make it this difficult. If you are this afraid of me now, it won't be easy for you later on. I really just want to get this ceremony over with."
Isabella shook her head rapidly as if she did not comprehend him. She placed one hand defensively in front of her, in order to warn him against coming any closer. With her other hand acting as a guide behind her back, she began to inch herself slowly towards the bedroom door.
Edward scowled. He detested how she reacted to him with such fear, as if he was the one forcing her to wed him. Edward was in no hurry to get married any time soon, and if he had to, he knew exactly who he wanted his eternal bride to be. And that was definitely not her.
With a frustrated sigh, he turned away from her and walked towards the dresser to grab his glass of wine.
"Fine. If you want to act this way, then go ahead. But I should warn you, you're not going to get far. There's a room full of thirsty, drunken vampires below us and they're not going to care about your feelings when they rip you apart for running. Tonight is inevitable, and you are not making it easy for either of us."
He drained the remainder of his wine. Edward set the glass back down and determinedly walked over to her, this time stopping at the edge of the bed. He held out his right arm and motioned for her to take it.
"They are waiting for us in the banquet hall, and everything is set in place. Do not test my patience princess. We do not have much time left before dawn."
Seconds felt like hours as Isabella debated on whether or not she should come to him. The poison in her body had already taken its affect and if she did not act soon, she would have sacrificed herself for nothing. It took Isabella all of her strength in order to heave herself off of the wall. Hesitantly, she took a step forward towards Edward's arm. Now, the poison running throughout her veins was clouding her vision even more. Her hands began to get clammy and she felt a chill spread throughout her body. Before she was able to steady herself, she lost her balance and stumbled towards the ground.
Immediately, Edward reached out to catch her fall, his deadly cold palms touched her heated skin, sending shivers throughout her body. Unwillingly, she leaned into him for support.
"I've got you princess," he whispered, "I told you not to fear me. I'm not going to hurt you. "
They walked quietly together towards the banquet hall, with her left arm wrapped tightly around his. With each step, Isabella had to use all of her strength in order to not collapse. If it wasn't for their unfortunate circumstance, she would've been thankful for his slow movements and willing support.
Carefully, Edward guided her into the noisy banquet room, oblivious of the poison that was slowly killing her. 'Poor girl is so terrified, she can't even walk on her own.' he thought innocently.
As soon as they arrived, the deafening chatters among the two hundred Volturians in the crowded room came to an abrupt stop. All eyes gazed on them as Edward nodded to a couple standing just beyond the far right side of the entrace.
With a nod back in return, Carlisle Cullen raised his ruby encrusted goblet into the air and soon after his salute, everyone followed suit. Without uttering a single word, the crowd began to promptly part ways in two separate directions, creating a walkway that revealed a raised dais in the center of the room. The dais was constructed out of century old wood, with four blazing torches placed at each corner of the platform. Along the edges, smaller candles also framed each side.
As soon as Edward took a step forward towards the stage, everyone in the room began to slowly chant in unison.
In the ancient tongue of the Volturian natives, they hummed "Vi la vi che ses se... Di la vai che ses sa… Di la ve che!"
Instantly, Isabella froze. Panic swept throughout her body. Here she was in a room full of vampires, the Mystic's immortal enemies. SHe couldn't believe that she was literally surrounded by the vile creatures that relentlessly slaughtered her people for thousands of years.
Edward tightened his grip on her arm in order to nudge her forward. Now is not the right time for her to resist. If she continued to disobey him, he could lose control of his senses and harm her greatly during the bond.
Once he was able to push her in front of the platform, he released his grip on her arm. Without warning, he picked her up and stepped onto of the raised wood.
Isabella wanted to protest but his sudden movement momentarily made her head spin. The throbbing sensation in her body took over, causing her to briefly black out. Her limp head fell right onto his chest. A few seconds later, when she regained awareness of her surrounding, Isabella found herself laying on top of the hard ground, starring straight into the deadly eyes of the strikingly beautiful stranger.
With his knees between her spread legs, he gazed down at her with a viscous look inside of his haunting red eyes. All around them, the flames from the candles and torches created dark and sinister shadows upon his face. At that moment, his primal instinct came to life, as his animalistic urges took over. He slowly curled his upper lip in order to reveal his sharp and lethal fangs. The reality of what came next struck Isabella immediately, as she closed her eyes, unable to hold his gaze any longer. She knew that within mere seconds, his fangs would pierce her neck, and from that moment on, their faiths would be sealed together forever. Isabella was certain that the moment that Edward takes her blood onto his lips, the poison from her body will spread into him as well. Like her, he soon will be paralyzed and unable to move, and by the break of dawn, death will consume them both.
Edward allowed himself to be lost in the hypnotic chant of his ancient people, the instinct to bite overwhelming his senses. His resolved had faltered the moment he began walking the princess towards the dais. Like a curse, the words of his people successfully put him into a trance. All will be over soon- He reminded himself just before he shut down his restraint and allowed himself to be lost in their spellbinding words.
No matter how hard he tried, he could not take his eyes away from the pounding pulse on her neck. He bared his growing fangs, ready to strike at any moment. The crowd began to increase their chanting louder and louder. With each moment that passed by, Edward's fangs ached to puncture her skin, in order to draw in her savory blood.
He closed his eyes and leaned down, resting both of his hands on either side of her head. He took a big whiff of her intoxicating scent, a sweet mixture of mist and rain that reminded him of her true nature.
He, Prince Edward Cullen of the Volturi was about to bind himself eternally to Isabella Swan, a sworn enemy- the aquatic princess of Mystic Rivers.