A/N: For those who complained that this Bella isn't like the cannon version I did state at the beginning of this FanFic that it would be set in an AU (alternative universe) this world is a little harsher than the cannon universe. I've still feeling out how I want this Bella to act and feel but having super self-control as a newborn just doesn't make sense for this Bella as she hasn't had much time to mentally prepare to be a vampire and she was turned and left on her own with no guidance so she's be running off instincts and no logical thoughts given how newborns are cannonly described.
The weight of their stares bore down on me like a heavy cloak, almost suffocating me. Irina's protective stance in front of Monica sent a shiver down my spine, her protective instincts working overtime due to the fact my creator was also somehow responsible for the brutal death of her mate's coven.
"Bella," Tanya's cautious tone snapped me out of my reverie. "Do you have any idea of what Victoria's motives could be?"
Swallowing hard, I felt the lump in my throat grow larger, threatening to choke me - if it were physically possible. It was clear that I could no longer hide the secrets that had plagued me for so long. Anxiously I braced myself to reveal the truth.
"I can't say for certain what her motives would be," I began, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. Meeting Tanya's gaze, a wave of guilt washed over me, a relentless tide that threatened to consume me whole.
Memories of the past year flooded my mind, each one a painful reminder of the dangers that lurked in the shadows. The burning feeling of guilt gnawed at my stomach.
"Just over a year ago, when I was with the Cullens," I continued, my voice trembling slightly with each word. The anxiety coursing through me was palpable, a suffocating weight that pressed down on me from all sides. "We had a run-in with Victoria and her coven mates," I confessed, the admission hanging heavy in the air. The lump in my throat threatened to suffocate me as I recounted the events of that encounter. "One of them, Laurent fled, unwilling to be a part of their plans," I explained, the memory still vivid in my mind. "And James... James saw me as the ultimate prize, a human among vampires, a hunt of a lifetime."
The atmosphere in the room grew heavy as my words sank in, lingering like a dark cloud over our conversation. The discomfort that had settled within me only seemed to deepen as I recounted the tumultuous events of the past year.
"Long story short," I continued, my voice barely above a whisper, "Edward killed James with the assistance of Emmett and Jasper. After that, we returned to Forks for a few months before Alice threw me a birthday party that ended up being a disaster. And then Edward said I didn't belong in this world, and they left."
The tension in the room thickened as Eleazar pondered aloud, "That doesn't explain Victoria's motives." His brows furrowed in deep thought. His voice cut through the silence like a knife, prompting further speculation from the others.
"Unless her and James were mates?" Carman's voice broke the silence, her eyes searching her mate's face for confirmation.
"That could explain why she would turn Bella, given Edward's conservative views on vampirism," Kate interjected, her disgust evident in her tone as she spoke of Edward.
"He's a fucking idiot," Monica's muttered response cut through the tension, her annoyance palpable before softening to sympathy as she caught my gaze. Her words echoed my own frustrations, a shared sentiment that hung in the air like a lingering echo.
"You can say that again," I sighed, feeling the weight slowly dissolve as I sensed no anger directed at me.
"But...," Eleazar began, his voice hesitant as he voiced his thoughts, "if Victoria and James were mates, it complicates things. You see, in our world, killing one of a mated pair of vampires is... complicated, to say the least."
"Complicated more like suicidal." Monica's muttered remark cut through the momentary silence, her anger palpable. I couldn't help but feel a pang of surprise at her insight into our world. Had she always been this knowledgeable about the supernatural, or was I simply ignorant?
We all looked at her, all surprised by her comment. Sensing everyone's eyes on her, Monica's heart rate spiked again suddenly being in the so called spot light again, as she found herself under scrutiny once more. Instinctively, she sought refuge behind Irina, who comfortingly purr as she embraced her young mate offering solace in the midst of uncertainty.
"What?" She asked defensively hiding slightly behind Irina, "It's not rocket science to know that if you kill one of a mated pair the other will seek of vengeance for their mate. An eye for an eye. It's... natural." She shrugged before Irina pulled her firmly to her kissing Monica's temple softly as she did so, causing Monica to relax slightly.
A cold hiss from Tanya filled the room.
"Bella isn't Edward's mate." Her words dripping with venom as she addressed the truth I had tried to bury. The weight of her gaze felt like a physical blow, Tanya's words cut through me like a knife, leaving me reeling with a mix of emotions. Confusion and hurt mingled with a sense of guilt, as if Edward and I being mates somehow betrayed Tanya in someway as well as dragging her family into a highly dangerous and complicated situation. But beneath it all, there was a flicker of something else, something I couldn't quite place. It was a distant echo of longing, buried deep within me, stirring at the edges of my consciousness to go over and comfort her.
"It wouldn't matter," Monica's voice cut through the silence like a knife, her words sharp and unforgiving. "She probably sees Bella as the reason her mate is dead, and that's enough."
Kate's brow furrowed in thought as she turned to me, her gaze searching for answers. "Bella, when did the Cullens leave you?" she asked, her tone that of a military officer.
I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of their scrutiny bearing down on me once more. How could I explain the tangled web of lies and betrayals that had led to Edward's departure? The truth was a bitter pill to swallow, but I knew I had no choice but to confront it head-on. "September 16th."
"Wit - Monica when did the Warlocks call this meeting?" Kate asked turning her case to the young witch.
"Three days ago."
"A hundred and eighty five days..." Kate pondered aloud looking over to Eleazar. "And the Warlocks didn't contact you before then?" She asked turning her attention back to Monica.
"Not regarding a meeting..." Monica replied swallowing loudly. Kate's probing question seemed to unsettle Monica, her heartbeat quickening imperceptibly as she skirted around the truth. Despite her attempts to mask her discomfort, the telltale signs of deception were unmistakable, why would she lie?
Irina's gentle touch brought Monica's evasive behavior to a halt, her hand resting tenderly against Monica's cheek. The subtle shift in Irina's expression did not go unnoticed, a flicker of hurt and confusion dancing across her features.
"Miláčik?" Irina's voice was soft, yet laced with a hint of concern. She urged Monica to meet her gaze, a silent plea for honesty and openness between them.
Monica's resolve faltered under Irina's unwavering scrutiny, the weight of their mated bond bearing down on her like a heavy burden. She could feel the discomfort mounting within her, a gnawing sense of guilt and unease that threatened to consume her.
"I... You won't understand..." Monica stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. Her gaze remained fixed on the floor, unable to meet Irina's eyes as tears began to fall from her eyes. The strain of keeping up the facade was evident in her trembling hands and the faint sheen of sweat that glistened on her brow.
Irina's expression softened with understanding, yet beneath the surface, there was a lingering sense of hurt.
As the tension in the room mounted, I couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for Monica, caught between her loyalty to her own kind and the undeniable connection she shared with Irina. It was a delicate balance, one that threatened to unravel with each passing moment, leaving both of them vulnerable to the consequences of their actions.
Irina's gaze softened, her hand lingering on Monica's cheek with a gentle caress, a silent reassurance of her support. Despite the hurt simmering beneath the surface, there was an unmistakable tenderness in her touch, a testament to the depth of their bond.
"Monica," Irina's voice was gentle, coaxing. "You know you can tell me anything. We are bound by more than just words."
Monica's shoulders sagged, the weight of Irina's words bearing down on her like a leaden weight. She knew she couldn't keep up the facade any longer, couldn't continue to deceive the one person who meant more to her than anything else in the world.
"I'm sorry," Monica whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I didn't want to lie to you, but... my brother is one of the Warlocks... he passively mentioned the last week when we got high that they had found away to dethrone us witches and become more powerful than us... I thought that he was joking."
Irina's expression softened further, her heart aching at the pain etched in Monica's eyes. She drew her into a tight embrace, enveloping her in a comforting embrace that spoke volumes of their unbreakable bond.
"It's okay," Irina murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to Monica's forehead. "We'll figure this out together. You are not alone."
As Irina held Monica close. In that moment, I couldn't help but marvel at the strength of their unusual connection.
Tanya and Kate's eyes narrowed as they processed Monica's revelation about her brother's comments. The air in the room grew heavy with tension, the gravity of Monica's words sinking in.
"What did you ur brother say exactly when he said they found a way to dethrone witches?" Tanya's voice was firm, her gaze piercing as she sought clarity amidst the confusion.
Monica sighed, her expression pained as she recounted her brother's careless words. The weight of his seeming betrayal hung heavily on her.
"He... he didn't go into great detail," Monica admitted, her voice strained. She swallowed loudly," But... he didn't seemed serious. He said he'd met some woman and she'd be able to secure their future... but that in itself doesn't make sense, estrogen amplifies magic, testosterone limits it so a woman being able to help warlocks rule doesn't add up. It's physically impossible for them to be more powerful than any witch... but with everything that's been happening... I don't know what to believe anymore."
Irina's grip on Monica tightened, a silent gesture of support and solidarity. Despite the turmoil swirling around them, there was an undeniable sense of unity between them, a shared determination to confront the challenges that lay ahead.
"We'll need to gather more information," Tanya declared, her voice steely with resolve. "If the warlocks are planning something, we need to be prepared. We can't afford to underestimate them."
"Aren't the newborns more important than the warlocks?" Monica snapped, "Surely you should be more concerned with your own kind."
Tanya's eyes narrowed at Monica's retort, her jaw clenched with barely contained frustration. The tension in the room thickened as the gravity of Monica's words hung in the air, each syllable a stark reminder of the precarious balance they walked between internal strife and external threats.
"The newborns are a concern, yes," Tanya responded evenly, her voice cutting through the charged atmosphere. "But we cannot ignore the threat posed by the warlocks. If they are indeed planning something, it could have far-reaching consequences for all of us. Especially if the Volturi get involved."
Monica bristled at Tanya's words, her defiance palpable as she squared her shoulders in defiance. "And what do you expect to do about it?" she challenged, her tone laced with bitterness. "You e got your coven and one witch against an entire coven of warlocks and newborns. And you can think again if you think I'm going to casually stroll up to them and casually ask what's happening since they probably expect me to be dead."
Irina's grip on Monica tightened, a silent reminder of the strength they drew from each other. "You are not going anywhere alone," Irina murmured, her voice a comforting reassurance.
"If they see either of us we're dead. They'll burn me at the stake and have you watch before they destroy you." Monica whispered closing her eyes trying to suppress the storm of emotions raging inside her. Outside the wind picked up drastically in a freak whirlpool. "Fuck" she muttered as she swayed slightly looking faint, she took a steadying breath as Irina steadied her, the events of the day began to take their toll on the young witch.
Tanya's expression hardened, her gaze unwavering as she absorbed Monica's defiance. "We will not confront them head-on," she stated firmly, her tone brooking no argument. "But we must gather information, assess the extent of the threat, and formulate a plan to protect ourselves and our kind."
Monica's bitterness seemed to ebb slightly at Tanya's words, replaced by a flicker of uncertainty. "And how do you propose we do that?" she asked, her voice tinged with resignation.
"We'll need to be cautious," Tanya replied, her mind already racing with strategies. "We'll gather intelligence discreetly, leveraging our network of contacts and allies. And we won't act until we have a clear understanding of the situation and a plan in place."
Irina's grip on Monica tightened further, a silent pledge of solidarity. "We'll face this together," she reiterated, her voice a steadfast anchor amidst the turmoil.
Monica nodded, her resolve strengthening in the face of the challenges ahead. "I trust you," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper.
As the wind outside intensified, a thunderous snowstorm rampaged on. Irina's gaze softened, her eyes searching Monica's face for any sign of doubt or hesitation. Their proximity seemed to amplify the intensity of the moment, each breath shared between them charged with unspoken emotions.
In that fleeting moment, the air crackled with anticipation, a palpable tension that seemed to draw them closer together, they were in their own world. Irina's hand gently cupped Monica's cheek, her touch tender yet tentative, as if afraid to break the fragile spell that bound them.
Monica's breath caught in her throat as she met Irina's gaze, her heart pounding in her chest like a drumbeat echoing in the silence. Her own hand rose to mirror Irina's gesture, their fingers trembling as they brushed against each other's skin.
For a moment, they hovered on the precipice of something profound, their unspoken desires swirling between them like a whirlwind of emotion. And as their eyes locked in a silent exchange, a flicker of longing passed between them, igniting a spark of desire that refused to be extinguished.
But just as they were about to close the distance between them, a sudden jolt of pain pierced through Monica's body, causing her to double over in agony. A sharp cry escaped her lips as she clutched her head squeezing her eyes shut, the force of the unseen assailant leaving her breathless and disoriented. All of us became alert and concerned with her wellbeing.
Irina's eyes widened in alarm and horror as she reached out to steady Monica, her shock mirrored in her expression. "What's wrong?" she exclaimed, her voice laced with concern and fear.
Monica struggled to catch her breath, the pain radiating through her body like a searing flame. "I... I don't know," she gasped, her voice strained with agony. As Monica's agony intensified, a sudden realisation dawned upon her as she opened her eyes again, this time they glowed unnaturally blue. Through the haze of pain, she felt a sinister presence lingering in the shadows, a malevolent force that sought to consume her from within.
"It's... Voodoo," Monica gasped, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and disbelief. She began to mutter a chant in an odd-sounding language, given how much the American education system lacked I couldn't begin to guess what language she was speaking. The four Denali's closest to me all had a look of growing concern when Monica started speaking her odd language, Irina as much to her dismay took a step away from her mate - her vampire instincts telling her to keep her distance from her witch. As Monica's voice filled the room with the strange chant, I felt a surge of energy coursing through me, a sensation unlike anything I had ever experienced before. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a world of magic and mystery hidden just beyond the confines of my understanding.
With a sense of awe and trepidation, I realized that I could see the dark tendrils of the Voodoo spell wrapping itself around Monica's body, their malevolent presence casting a sinister shadow across the room. The unnatural glow in her eyes only served to heighten the sense of dread that hung in the air like a heavy fog.
Instinctively, I took a step forward, my eyes locked on Monica as she continued her chant. Despite the pain that wracked her body and fear in her eyes she recognised something in me, there was a fierce determination in her voice, a steely resolve that refused to be broken as she too took a step towards me and grabbed my shoulder.
As Monica's hand made contact, a strange sensation washed over me, a tingling warmth that seemed to radiate from her touch. It was as if a current of energy surged through my body, connecting me to Monica in a way I couldn't fully comprehend.
The air around us crackled with an otherworldly energy, the dark tendrils of the Voodoo spell shimmering in the dim light. Monica's chant reached its crescendo, the magic surged forth, enveloping us in a swirling vortex of power. I could feel it coursing through my veins, a raw and primal force that pulsed with a life of its own. It was both exhilarating and terrifying, a sensation that defied explanation and left me feeling simultaneously exhilarated and apprehensive. As the last echoes of her chant faded into the air, a palpable tension filled the room, the air crackling with the remnants of the Voodoo spell. Then, with a sudden rush of energy, the dark tendrils faded away, dissipating into nothingness as if they had never been. Monica slowly retracted her hand from my shoulder and looked at me with her unnaturally bright blue eyes with curiosity.
Irina's eyes widened in astonishment as she watched her mate regain control before her eyes, her disbelief mirrored in the faces of the others. "What... what just happened?" she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper, she was clearly confused by our actions and so was I.
Monica's shoulders sagged with relief as the last remnants of the spell vanished, leaving her trembling but unharmed. "I... I don't know," she admitted turning to look at Irina, her voice hoarse with exhaustion. "I broke the spell. But..." she paused turning back to look at me confusedly, " You're a witch?"
"News to me if I am," I chuckled uncomfortably taking a step away from Monica, feeling her unnatural eyes analysing me.
"What is your last name? Your Mothers too?" Monica demanded.
"Swan and Higginbotham was my mother's maiden name," I replied quickly, I felt Tanya's presence by my side as I took another step back away from the young witch whose gaze darted between the two of us. Tanya's expression was a warning to Monica to not overstep but to also get to her point.
"When you were human could you do anything unusual for them?" She continued still visibly confused, she took a step back as she read Tanya's warning. My side hummed with static electricity with how close Tanya was standing next to me. I could feel her discomfort with the situation as well as a hint of protection. Oddly enough it sparked the desire to protect her as well, my instincts silently letting me know I was currently the stronger between the two of us.
"Edward couldn't read my mind," I shrugged trying to recall if there had been anything else that would be worth mentioning.
"You could see the spell attacking me that's why you came closer to me," Monica said slowly, it wasn't a question, I nodded her eyes began to fade back into their dark shade of blue as she stared at me in disbelief. "You're an Aurora Veilweaver..."
As Monica's realisation settled in, the tension in the room seemed to escalate, each of us processing the implications of her discovery. The air crackled with an odd energy, a silent acknowledgement of the power that lay dormant within me.
I felt a surge of unease as Monica's gaze bore into me, her eyes flickering with a mixture of awe and trepidation. It was as if she saw me in a new light, no longer a newborn sired by the same vampire that created the newborns that murdered her coven. Yet it was clear she was hesitant with her new perception of me shifting in the wake of her revelation.
"I... I don't know what that means," I admitted, my voice tinged with uncertainty. The term 'Aurora Veilweaver' sounded foreign and unfamiliar, leaving me feeling drastically out of my depth.
Monica's brow furrowed in thought as she considered my response, her mind seemingly racing with possibilities. "An Aurora Veilweaver is a rare breed of witch," she explained, her voice tinged with a sense of reverence. "They can possess the ability to manipulate the fabric of reality itself, weaving spells that transcend the boundaries of conventional magic. Mainly they can see magic being cast, their own magic protects their being so others cannot deceive or manipulate them"
The weight of her words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of their implications. I couldn't help but feel a sense of disbelief at the idea that I could possess such extraordinary abilities. It seemed too fantastical, too far-fetched to be true. Monica's words resonated with a sense of truth that I couldn't ignore. There was something inherently familiar about the concept of an Aurora Veilweaver as if it had been lurking in the depths of my subconscious all along, waiting to be awakened.
"And you... you have this power?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. The idea seemed surreal, yet there was a part of me that couldn't shake the feeling of excitement that bubbled up inside me at the thought.
Monica shook her head solemnly, her gaze meeting mine with a newfound sense of understanding. "I can only see light magic and manipulate that as light magic is more natural. Grey magic makes my skin crawl as it's manipulating the elements of the natural world, and then I'm sure you can figure out what Dark magic would consist of." She confirmed, her voice tinged with a hint of awe. "But that doesn't explain how you survived the transformation. Witches can't become vampires..."
The revelation that I possessed extraordinary abilities left me feeling unsettled, as if the ground beneath me had shifted, leaving me teetering on the edge of an abyss.
"I don't understand," I murmured, my voice barely a whisper as I struggled to make sense of the information Monica had shared. The idea of being a Vampire was hard for me to accept but now learning that I was also somehow a rare form of witch was equally unsettling. Still, beneath the surface was a hit of excitement, but also there was a nagging sense of fear, a gnawing uncertainty that threatened to consume me. The thought of being made for the supernatural world and possessing abilities that set me apart from others filled me with a sense of dread.
Monica's gaze softened, a silent reassurance amidst the storm of emotions raging within me. "I don't have all the answers," she admitted, her voice gentle yet tinged with sadness. "But you're not alone. You have a strong coven here, I'll help you understand your gifts if you wish to pursue them."
Her words offered a small measure of comfort, a glimmer of hope amidst the uncertainty that loomed over us like a dark cloud. As I looked into Monica's eyes, I felt a sense of solidarity, a shared understanding that we were bound by a sisterhood greater than ourselves.
"This is all very touching and weird but can we focus on finding out what the warlocks are planning? We can't afford to waste time," Kate complained from her spot on the sofa. Her words resonated with a sense of urgency, reminding us of the imminent danger that was lurking in the shadows.
Feeling Tanya's hand on my shoulder, I glanced sideways to meet her gaze. There was a subtle tension in her expression, a hint of wariness that hadn't been there before. It was as if she sensed something between Monica and me, something that made her uneasy. Her touch felt protective, grounding me in the midst of uncertainty.
Irina, too, moved closer to Monica, her embrace possessive yet comforting. I could sense her unease, her instinct to protect what was hers. Despite her efforts to hide it, there was a flicker of apprehension in her eyes, a silent acknowledgement of the bond that Monica and I shared. Monica relaxed into Irina's embrace and seemingly was more relaxed knowing she wasn't the only witch present.
As the weight of their gazes bore down on me, I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. It was clear that my connection with Monica had stirred something within them, something that they couldn't quite understand or control. Yet, despite their reservations, there was an undeniable sense of unity between us, a shared determination to confront the challenges that lay ahead.