Chapter Thirteen:

Afton POV:

I glanced at the coffin sadly. It was covered in a thick layer of dust, and the joints were so rusty that they seemed about to break. It was just one of many in the dark stone passage, resting in an alcove in the wall. But I liked it here, in the solitude and peace of death.

Only here, deep beneath the earth in the dungeons, could I escape from Chelsea's iron shackles over my mind. She was the vampire who had turned me, and had great power over me. She could make me love her with my body, but my mind refused to believe her.

My mind refused to forget.

I gently slid aside the lid of the coffin, and laid a cold finger on the body within. Yvaine was still beautiful, perfectly preserved by rare and powerful ointments I had bought in Egypt. Her golden hair had grown since I saw her last, and now stretched from her head all the way to her delicate feet.

She was my first and only love. Even the sight of her now made me smile. She was the only bright light for me, in a life that had lost all other meaning. She was dead… but so was I, really.

I reached out and held her hand. It felt warm and loving to me. I remembered all the brief time we had spent together, and managed to smile a bit. She was a peasant girl, the daughter of a poor farmer, and I was the son of a rich corporate magnate.

I thought I was happy with money and limitless riches. I had drinks and cars, and many women – but none of those things made me happy. I was sent to a village on the outskirts of London, to oversee its destruction to make way for the railroads that were so rapidly spreading across the country.

It was there that I met Yvaine. She taught me the meaning of life. I was happy, and I married her. We stopped the construction of the railroad, and fled to Oxford – far, far away from the wrath of my parents. But they found us in the end, and in a moment of anger, I discovered my power to make people obey me, and used it to kill them.

My voice also found its way to Yvaine's ears, and her heart stopped. She died in my arms, with a smile on her face.

I ran my hand along her slender body, closing my eyes and trying to remember life before my death. I let my fingers rest upon her heart, and felt its warmth glowing from her chest.

Wait.

There was something else, slid in between the folds of her gown. With trembling fingers, I picked it up.

It was a tiny scroll, written on ancient parchment in what seemed to be blood. The words were hastily written, and very crude, as though they had been cut with a fallen tooth. It was torn in places, but still legible.

I read it, hoping for some kind of message written by Yvaine before her death. Was there some way, some strange art that she had used to hide this scroll from me until this day? Perhaps she had something to tell me, one last declaration of our love –

It was not.

It was a scroll, and it was written by Cassandra.

I unfurled it with shaking hands and began to read.

Iribelle POV:

"There is fear in the air tonight," I smiled, and licked my lips seductively.

Athenal smiled, and hugged me tightly, until my head was rested on his strong chest. I could smell my mate in all his glory, a scent like musk, sweat and blood. It smelt delicious to me, and I felt a quivering inside of me as I ran my tongue along his belly, pulling off his shirt as I went.

"Belle," he murmured before we kissed, and wrapped his arms around my waist. I did the same, and quietly slipped my hands into his pants. I could smell his arousal, and it spurred my own, and we kissed passionately, fangs clashing as our tongues fought for dominance.

Afton POV:

I could hardly believe what I was reading. It undermined the very principles upon which I had spent the last five decades of my life. It meant that every single one of us here in Volterra was complicit to Aro's madness.

I closed my eyes. There was no time to waste. Cassandra's scroll was addressed to one person in particular, and he had to read it. I focused all my thoughts, gathering them and casting my conscience out of the depths of the earth and back to the surface. I found the minds of Jane and Alec, tiny in comparison to the ancient powers that inhabited the castle. They had not developed defences against me, and they were the only ones that I could command with any degree of certainty.

Find Athenal and Iribelle!

Iribelle POV:

"What are you doing?"

o_o

We sat up bolt upright, pulling the covers over our undressed bodies. Alec and Jane were staring at us with childish curiosity from the door.

O_O

"Wrestling," I said quickly, nudging Athenal in the ribs. He grabbed our clothes, and we changed with the practiced speed of people who have been walked in on before – in fact, we had been walked in on in all sorts of places. Crypts, freshly-dug graves, public toilets at night… that sort of thing.

"What are you two doing here?" asked Athenal, awkwardly. He wasn't sure how much the two of them had seen.

"Afton asked us to deliver a message to you," said Jane cheerfully, then turned to her brother. "Alec, do you want to wrestle too?"

Athenal and I glanced at each other. Afton rarely had reason to call upon us, or anyone. He must have been in one of his rare lucid moments where he could discern which were his own thoughts and which were Chelsea's.

"Thanks," I said sharply to the twins, then swung out of bed. Hopefully, the empty bed wouldn't give them any ideas. That would be… twincest.

We left the twins in our room and rushed down the hall, going as quickly as we could so as to not arouse suspicion. I once sensed Chelsea coming down the corridor, no doubt searching for her unwilling husband, but we managed to avoid her until we came close to the entrance to the dungeons.

The door was not bolted, which was strange. We followed the tall, winding spiral staircase deeper into the earth, ignoring the hundreds of side passages that we came upon along the way. Volterra was a cemetery before we had taken over it, and the catacombs still existed beneath the castle proper. I followed Afton's scent until we came upon a narrow corridor, halfway down the stair, and moved down it.

"His fear is getting stronger," I whispered, my voice loud in the narrow space. On either side of us were alcoves, with skeletal remains shoved into them. Some of them housed simple coffins, and others were empty – but Afton's scent was becoming stronger, and his fear wilder.

"Afton?" shouted Athenal, his voice echoing throughout the catacombs, rattling the bones of the ancient dead. "What happened?"

A moment later, Afton emerged from the darkness. He was shaking, and in his hand was a small scroll.

"We have to leave. Now!"