Author's Note: Thank you very much to everyone who favourited and reviewed the previous chapter. The feedback is always very encouraging, and I welcome any and all opinions.
This chapter contains some sexuality, fairly tame by my standards, but present nonetheless. If some readers are offended by this, I would advise skipping over the first part of this chapter.
III.
Night encroached upon the stone of the palazzo in waves of star-silvered blackness, leaving only skittering scraps of uncertain light and shadows the colour of bone, so unlike the nuzzling, misty twilight that Bella had loved in Forks that a fresh tide of homesickness rose in her stomach, twining her insides into knots and nausea.
Unwilling to let herself shatter into sharpened, shimmering shards, she searched the room for some diversion, but the Volturi had not deemed to provide her with books, much less a computer. Finding no alternative, she shrugged off her flower-spattered sundress and began searching for something that could double as pajamas.
A too-large t-shirt caught her eye, and she pulled it on, collapsing onto silken sheets.
Though her breathing and pulse hissed and throbbed too loudly to her own ears, Bella could detect the steady shift in the fabric of sound between day and darkness. When the sun stained stone, the palazzo hummed with footfalls and voices, the soothing ambiance of a bustling office. As shadows lengthened, facades fell away.
The screams began first, hollow and rattling, making Bella wonder who amongst the Volturi enjoyed playing with their food. Soon after, hisses and moans tore the silence asunder, suggesting that her captors indulged in passion of a different sort once their eyes became rubies. It was not difficult to envision the lingering, curling sensuality between the Volturi leaders igniting an inferno.
Perhaps someone amongst the guard had a gift like Jasper's, Bella decided as imaginary heat lapped at her toes and sparkling frissons of lust danced unbearably where the cotton of her shirt brushed her skin. These could not be her own emotions—hadn't she, just months ago, decided that she'd cheerfully wait years for Edward? His tenderness had moulded itself around her, filling the hollows and fissures, remaking her into someone whole.
Suddenly, that love was insufficient, trickling through the sieve of her lashes and muddying the ground.
Seemingly of its own volition, a blue-veined hand crept beneath her shirt, snaking past the ribboned waistband of flimsy panties. Fumbling fingers searched the slickness between her hips, until a fleeting touch brushed the sensitive knot of flesh that forced her spine off the sheets, coaxing starved mewls from her throat.
Falling back onto the pillows, Bella brought a copper-headed boy, beautiful and righteous, to her mind's eye, envisioning lovemaking marked by feathery caresses and whispered promises of an elegant eternity. Desperation marred her features as impatient nails dug in too deeply, seeking to elicit a response, breathy whispers of Edward's name. A few moments proved the effort useless.
Unbidden images of dark hair tumbling in streamers over her shoulder filled her head and her own hands elicited flame once more…
…powdery palms cupped her breasts, the dusk-stained buds of nipples eagerly teased by teeth that trespassed too close to the violet-bordered rivers of veins. Words were mouthed in songlike Italian against her ribs, the vibrations finding their note and thrumming between her thighs, until she thrashed and whimpered, yearning for release that did not come…
The pads of her fingers set a rhythm, smooth and swift, as her mind substituted Aro's lips for her hands, the devastation of death and pleasure entwined, inflicted upon a girl who drowned in futile desire. As the pressure inside her blossomed into a gasping, tearing iris, her thoughts granted her an image of the ebony-haired ancient tangled between her legs, his greedy mouth ripping through the silky underbelly of her throat.
Bella arched, her vision running scarlet and sticky, as the Aro of her creation tore apart her head in screaming pain and shivering pleasure.
The leaden tide of exhaustion claimed her as soon as paroxysms relinquished their hold, but not soon enough to banish the furious, smarting crimson that stained her cheeks in blade-sharp shame. In ten minutes, she had peeled away everything that made her a Cullen by nature; she understood this. There was nothing of virtue left, and she could not help but wonder whether only an ashen cloak could veil this sort of transgression.
[-]
"Good morning, brothers!" Aro chanted, merrily gliding into the mahogany-carved study shared amongst the ruling triumvirate.
"It is noon," Caius remarked, his gaze not leaving the neatly stacked papers before him.
"Please forgive me. I was otherwise occupied." He swiped at the film of dust motes glazing the elaborately wrought teak of his desk.
"As you tend to be when I wish to speak with you." His pale-haired brother was scowling, deep lines shadowing his features.
"What is it?" Aro murmured, leaning back, his fingers patiently steepled.
"Why, in the name of all the gods, did you allow the Cullen boy's pet to remain human? You have just brought four weeks of worry upon me. Jane is likely plotting her death as we speak."
"Caius, dear one—" Aro could not help grinning when the younger man bristled at the affection, "—if we turn Miss Swan against her will, she will be an impossible newborn. With that gift of hers, the twins will not serve their purpose and perhaps even Demetri will prove useless, should she flee."
"How do you intend to buy her loyalty within such a short time? She fears us, perhaps hates us. Can you not tell that from her heartbeat, her smell?"
A chuckle interrupted Caius' tirade. "Ah, little brother, this is why we do not leave you responsible for public relations. You see, I believe that everyone has a price. If they are promised the correct incentive—wealth, power, an ideal perhaps, they will remain loyal though hell itself dogs their steps."
"What do you intend to offer the human?"
"Our sweet Bella needs to be loved. If she believes that someone cares for her beyond reason, she will do anything for him. Her fool's flight to Italy is certainly proof of that," Aro said, delighted, though Caius wore a mask of disgust.
"And who do you propose will feign the sentiment?"
"You needn't make that face, Cai. You deserve better than being eviscerated by Athenodora." Ember eyes glowed hungrily as Aro turned to Marcus. "Would you care to tell me about our lovely guest's feelings toward me?"
Bruise-eyed and silent, Marcus extended a gaunt hand with purpled nails, filling his brother's head with glimmering traces of an uncertain bond, sticky fingers and fiery cheeks buried in silk.
"Wonderful."
[-]
A staccato of sound at Bella's door interrupted boredom side-stitched with panic.
"Come in," she said, immediately wondering whether she had any authority to make such a statement.
"Bella, my dear, I am afraid that I have not been a satisfactory host," Aro sang, entering the room in a swirl of inky fabric and manic cheer.
"I…um, what do you mean?" The petaled pink on her features only brightened as she realized how revealing the nervous thrum in her voice was, even to one who was unfamiliar with mortal tics.
"You must be dreadfully bored here, with only Renata for company."
"Oh no, she's very sweet and I like—"
"Of course, I was not impugning little Renata's abilities. I merely meant that you must have some interests to occupy your time. Tell me, what is it that you like?"
Bella picked at raw nails, uncomfortably reminded of first days of school, where teachers asked nosy questions while twitching, reluctant students listed their hobbies to be judged by all.
"Do you like music? Books? Fashion?" Aro's voice was infinitely gentle with genuine curiosity, the sort of sweetness that she had come to expect only from Carlisle. It could not be sincere, Bella's mind insisted, but logic would not overrule the fragment of her that wished.
"I love to read," she whispered. "Do you have a library here, or another place where I could get some books?"
"Indeed. I apologize for not thinking of it earlier. If you'll come with me, I can show you to the library." A pale hand was extended, and she took it, unsure whether that was the intent of the gesture.
"Please forgive me," he murmured, perhaps noting the persistent patter of her pulse. "I generally take people by the hand as a means of communication. You will forgive me my old habits, I hope."
Once again, Bella breathed something unintelligible, trying to cast aside the sensation of belonging that edged through her when her palm was curved against his.
Author's Note: As always, your reviews are appreciated. I have a formspring account (link on profile), so if you feel like leaving me anonymous reviews and receiving a reply, you can always use that.