Fight
It doesn't take long before he reminds me of the abhorrent dominating personality he sported moments ago when he looks down on me and growls, "You're going to fight me on everything aren't you?"
"I apologize," I start, finally coming back down from the shock of Aro sweeping me out of the study. "But I have my own opinions on things. I do not recall vowing my absolute obedience to you."
His cold arms grip me tighter, and I feel the air rush out of my lungs. I sputter, struggling to breathe before he loosens his hold.
"That isn't necessary. You are in service to the Volturi, are you not?" He does not cast a glance in my direction but elects to stare ahead, focused on his destination.
"I am."
"Then you will serve me," he drawls. Thin lips drag into a mischievous grin. "You will serve me quite well, Isabella."
The way he speaks my name sends shivers down my spine. I want to squirm, wrench myself from his grasp, and run away from these uncomfortable and foreign feelings. But his raven hair is brushing my cheek with every other step and the very scent of it has me spinning. He surrounds me with hints of spearmint, sage, and patchouli; every breath intoxicates me further.
And as the clouds blow into my consciousness, I try to remind myself that I need to hold onto my resolve. I cannot give in to this man's whims, regardless of his status. This is not the agreement that was made. His treatment does not fall under the terms of my servitude.
"But, I am to serve Master Caius," I argue, my voice lacking the fire which consumed it before. His presence calms my flames; it is unnerving to feel so balanced.
Aro vibrates against me and a warning growl resounds from deep in his chest. I take that moment to look up at him, to take his features in entirely. The man holding onto me with such solidity is more beautiful than any man I have had the fortune to come across yet. His raven hair glistens in the candlelight, looking almost as silky as it felt against my skin. Alabaster, paper skin stretches over his bone structure, and I can tell that there was something ethereal about this man. His eyes are red like all the other beings I came across in the castle, though they flash to a deep onyx every time he sneaks a glance at me.
His eyes are black now, glaring down at me with an abundance of anger. But amid the anger, I can sense his emotions dwindling. The licks of his flame begin to flicker out, sparking my own fire. I meet his glare with an equal level of vexation and reach up to grip his cloak collar.
"Are you growling at me, Aro?"
"You are to call me Master Aro, my pet," he sneers, flashing his teeth. "The next time you call me Aro, I will not hesitate to drain you dry."
I snort at his threat. Confidence continues to grow inside of me with each passing second. And even amid his threats, my heart tells me that he won't dare hurt me; that he can't. And still, everything about him oozes danger. The voices in my head warn me against placing any trust in him, to watch him with caution. The war between the two is sudden and intense, too intense for just meeting this man.
"Are you removing me from my daily schedule then, Master Aro?"
He growls again; the animalistic noise frightens me. He is not happy with my sarcasm. But with every noise and utterance this man makes, I become more certain that these people are not people at all, but something supernatural. And even though his threats do not even come close to jostling me out of comfort, my humanity is screaming at me to take his words literally. Still, something deep inside of me places full trust in this stranger.
We reach the end of the corridor, and Aro kicks open a door, continuing to carry me inside of what appears to be a master suite. These must be his rooms. The bed is a four-poster beauty, adorned with large furs and an intricately embroidered gold and burgundy quilt. The walls are covered in portraits of Aro and his brothers, as well as what appeared to be a family portrait of the three kings and two women who must be the queens of this castle.
Aro dumps me onto the bed, not bothering to pay attention to my landing, and begins to pace the length of the room. He does not look at me, does not acknowledge me; he ignores me while the tension in his shoulders grows with each trip across the suite floor. And I am left to watch every movement of his lithe figure, even graceful in frustration.
"Why am I here?" I speak up after I finally build the courage to interrupt this tense silence. I cannot keep my eyes off of him; my sole focus is this strange man.
Aro stops his pacing and turns on his heel to stare at me. The anger is gone now, but the tension continues to roll off of him in pulsing waves. Four steps forward and he is in front of me, standing at the base of the bed looking down on me. "Because you are mine, Isabella."
I gasp at his reverent proclamation and lean back against the pillows. I eye the starving man carefully; his eyes flash with need. "I belong to no one, Aro."
And suddenly, he is on me, holding me by my throat. He does not hurt me, but I sense that he very well can if he desires to. A simple squeeze is all it would take. His grip is tight enough to restrict my airflow in the slightest and I find it more difficult to breathe.
"What did I tell you, pet?" He growls, his sweet breath fanning across my face. Everything about him is alluring to me, even his attempt at scaring me.
"That you would drain me dry if I called you by your name again," I repeat his words, choking through every syllable. But I refuse to take my eyes off his, watching as the fire grows in his orbs.
"Are you scared, little bird?"
"No." It is the truth. He doesn't scare me.
"Do you know what I am, Isabella? Do you know what I could do to you?"
"No," I answer. "But I have an inkling."
And I do. But the word still will not come to me. I can't begin to fathom what he actually is. Not with the behaviors he presented to me tonight.
Aro releases me then, and I sputter. His stark white teeth glisten inches from my face as a snarl emits from him. "I am a vampire, Isabella. The kind of evil creature from myth and legend. The ruthless beast that feeds on the blood of humans."
The confession paralyzes me, or maybe it's his lips on my neck that sends freezing ice through my limbs. Cool kisses brush my skin, eliciting an unwanted moan from my throat.
"And you, my darling," he whispers into my ear. He pulls my earlobe into his mouth but releases it almost immediately. Teeth graze the flesh behind my ear, and I have to hold back a sudden sob of need. "Belong to me now."