Aro led us into the main throne room, and Marcus led me to stand next to his throne as he seated himself, leaving me to stand beside him. I shifted awkwardly as the guard assembled, awaiting Aro's words.
I was keenly aware of the weight of my new cloak, the pendant resting just above my collarbone as a symbol of my supposed protection. But as I stepped onto the polished stone floor, under the scrutinizing gazes of some of the most dangerous beings in existence, I felt anything but safe. The air in the room felt heavy with expectation, and I knew that every eye in the chamber was watching me, analyzing me, determining whether I was truly meant to be here—or if I was an intruder in their world.
"My dear ones," Aro began, his voice light and filled with a theatrical warmth that I was starting to recognize as his usual manner. "We welcome a new presence among us—our dear Isabella." A ripple of murmurs passed through the gathered guard, some merely curious, others skeptical. I looked down to Marcus, who was staring intently at the gathered crowd, assessing their reaction.
I kept my expression neutral, though my fists clenched beneath the folds of my cloak. The tension between Aro and me still lingered from our earlier conversation. He had reminded me of my place—as a human, as something fragile, something beneath them. And yet, here I stood, forced into the center of attention as if I were something more.
Marcus, who had remained largely silent until now, finally spoke. "It would be… beneficial for the guard to know she is under our protection." His voice was quiet but firm, the slightest hesitation in his words betraying his discomfort. He gestured to me, before running a hand across the deep black cloak I was wearing, as if to emphasize the color. "Should anything happen to our Bella, you will be dealt with swiftly, and permanently."
A hushed murmur ran through the crowd again, and Aro nodded his head. "Indeed, Bella is of particular use to our coven in the future." His smile was placid, but there was an undeniable weight to his words, a promise of plans I was not yet privy to.
Marcus's eyes lingered on me, betraying a flicker of softness in them, before he turned to look towards the guard once more. "You know her now. Do not forget it."
With a flourish of his hand, Aro dismissed the guard.
The throne room emptied slowly, the guard dispersing with murmured conversations and lingering glances in my direction. I stood awkwardly beside Marcus's throne, my fingers twisting in the folds of my cloak. The pendant around my neck felt heavier than ever, a symbol of protection that somehow made me feel more exposed.
Marcus remained seated, his crimson eyes fixed on the retreating figures of the guard. His expression was unreadable, but there was a tension in his posture that hadn't been there before. When the last of the guard had left, he turned to me, his gaze softening slightly.
"You handled that well," he said, his voice quiet but sincere.
I blinked, surprised by the compliment. "I didn't do much," I admitted. "I just… stood there."
Marcus's lips curved into a faint smile. "Sometimes, that's all that's required," he said. "You are in a delicate position, Bella. It's important that you appear confident, even if you don't feel it. Still... you must be careful, for now."
His words sent a chill down my spine. I had already seen how Caius felt about my presence here. If others shared his disdain, I wasn't sure how long Aro's could realistically last, no matter how final the rulers' word truly was.
As if sensing my unease, Marcus stood, his movements graceful and unhurried. He stepped closer to me, his ruby eyes searching mine. "You're not alone, Bella," he said softly. "I will ensure your safety. You have my word."
His words should have comforted me, but they only deepened the guilt twisting in my chest. Marcus had been kind to me, far kinder than I deserved, and yet I was lying to him—about Edward, about the Cullens, about everything. I wanted to tell him the truth, to trust him, but I couldn't. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
Before I could respond, Aro's voice cut through the silence. "Ah, my dear Marcus," he said, his tone light and teasing. "Always the protector. It's one of your most endearing qualities."
Marcus's face flashed momentarily with anger, his gaze darkening as he looked at Aro, who was beaming happily to himself as he looked at us.
Aro chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. "Well, I won't keep you," he said, turning to leave. "I'm sure you two have much to discuss. Do let me know if there's anything you need, Bella. My door is always open."
With that, he swept out of the room, leaving Marcus and me alone once more.
The silence that followed was heavy, filled with unspoken words and unanswered questions. I looked around and noticed that Caius had also slipped out of the room, leaving the two of us utterly alone. I turned to Marcus, my heart pounding. "What does he want from me?" I asked, my voice trembling. "Why is he so… interested?"
Marcus hesitated, his gaze flickering to the door where Aro had exited. "Aro is… curious, at the very least, towards you," he said finally, a small, knowing smile playing at the corners of his lips.
"Curious," I repeated, testing the word out.
Marcus nodded as he stood, taking my hand, not offering me much of a further explanation.
Marcus led me through the dimly lit halls of the castle, his presence a quiet comfort as we walked in silence. The weight of the day's events pressed heavily on me, and I was grateful for the chance to retreat to the relative safety of my chambers. When we reached the door, Marcus opened it for me, gesturing for me to enter.
The room was warm, the fire in the hearth casting a soft, flickering glow across the walls. The tapestries seemed to come alive in the firelight, their intricate patterns shifting and dancing as the flames crackled. I walked over to the fireplace, sinking into the plush couch nearby. Marcus followed, taking a seat next to me.
For a long moment, we sat in silence, the only sound the crackling of the fire. It was a comfortable silence, the kind that didn't need to be filled with words.
"I remember finding Aro and Caius," Marcus said suddenly. "And Athenadora. It was so long ago, yet the memory is as clear as if it happened yesterday. We were young, in the way that vampires can be, searching for purpose in an existence we barely understood. Aro… he had a vision of what we could become. Caius had a hunger for power. And I… I was content simply not to be alone."
His crimson eyes flickered with old memories as he continued. "It wasn't until Aro found Sulpicia that our world truly began to take shape. But that was over three thousand years ago."
His voice trailed off, lost in the weight of time, and I felt a strange sorrow settle in the space between us.
The firelight flickered softly against the stone walls as the chamber settled into silence, save for the occasional crackle of embers. Marcus remained still beside me, his gaze distant, lost in the long stretch of memory.
From the doorway, a familiar voice broke through our quiet. "Ah, reminiscing, are we?" Aro's tone was light, but there was a knowing glint in his crimson eyes as he stepped into the room, hands clasped behind his back.
Marcus did not stir, but his lips pressed into a thin line- he must have known Aro was coming long before I did. I stiffened slightly, instinctively wary of Aro's presence, but he only smiled warmly as he glided closer.
"I heard your conversation," Aro continued, his gaze flitting between us. "It is quite rare to hear Marcus speak at length of our past." He sighed, his expression momentarily wistful. "Ah, those were tumultuous times, weren't they, brother?"
Marcus exhaled a quiet breath. "Tumultuous," he echoed, his tone unreadable.
Aro chuckled, folding his arms behind his back as he slowly paced the chamber. "Indeed. You see, dear Bella, when we first rose to prominence, we were not the only ones who sought to shape the immortal world. There was another ruling force before us—the Romanians." His voice darkened slightly as he spoke the name, the weight of history settling over his words.
I listened intently, sensing the depth of what he was about to reveal.
"They were powerful, yes," Aro continued, his eyes flickering dangerously in the light of the fire before us, "but their reign was one of indulgence and stagnation. They saw themselves as gods, rulers by mere virtue of their existence rather than through any true governance. Their court was a crude, barbaric thing, built upon fear rather than order. And so, we made a decision. A necessary one."
He paused, seeming to almost choose his next works, "we overthrew them. It was not swift, nor was it easy. Their forces were vast, and they clung to their empire with desperate claws. But we were meticulous. Calculated. One by one, their allies fell. Their cities burned. And in time, we stood victorious."
I shivered at the quiet finality in his voice, imagining the vampires in front of me playing out such displays of violence. It was no wonder Carlisle felt so out of place during his time here, no matter how refined their outward appearance was.
"From their ashes, we built something greater," Aro went on, his expression smoothing into something almost serene. "A true rule, one not of chaos, but of law. We gathered those with exceptional gifts, those who could strengthen our cause, and forged the foundation of what you see today."
He turned, his gaze settling on me with quiet amusement. "And now, here you are, caught in the web of our legacy."
I swallowed, uncertain how to respond. The weight of what he described—the centuries of war, the calculated destruction—felt almost too vast to comprehend. I'm sure no human war has ever lasted as long as what he's describing.
Aro, however, seemed entirely at ease with it. He smiled again, a softer expression this time, as his gaze drifted toward Marcus.
I followed his line of sight and realized—Marcus and I had shifted closer together on the couch. At some point during Aro's speech, my body had instinctively leaned toward Marcus's steady presence, and his arm rested lightly along the back of the seat. It was subtle, but the proximity was undeniable.
Aro's smile widened ever so slightly. "My dears..." he trailed off for a moment, taking in the sight of us once more as he began to smirk, "it is so nice to see you two... engaged in the story."
Marcus's only response was a faint sigh, but he did not move away. I, however, felt heat rise to my cheeks, despite knowing it was ridiculous.
Aro merely chuckled. "Well, well. Perhaps history is not the only thing unfolding before us."
With that small remark, he turned, making his way toward the door. "Do rest well, dear ones," he nodded in our direction, taking one last look at the two of us.
Then, with a graceful sweep of his robes, he was gone, leaving only the flickering firelight and the lingering weight of history between us.
Marcus let out a soft sigh, his head tilting back against the couch as he cast a wry glance toward the door. "There is never any privacy within these walls," he murmured, a faint trace of amusement in his voice. I found myself smiling as I observed him, taking in the exasperation across his features as he closed his eyes, pretending to rest just as I was.
Despite his complaint, his grip on me tightened slightly, his arm settling more securely around my shoulders. The weight of it was reassuring, grounding in a way I hadn't expected. I leaned into his touch without thinking, finding a strange comfort in his presence.
Aro had left, and the castle had fallen into its usual hushed ambiance, but I still felt the lingering presence of unseen eyes, the constant knowledge that no one was ever truly alone here. I supposed Marcus knew that better than anyone at this point.
Still, he didn't seem to mind. His lips curled into the smallest of smiles as he looked down at me, his expression softer than I had ever seen before. It was rare to see him this way—open, unguarded. Perhaps he has long up on pretending with me?
The fire crackled in the hearth, filling the silence with its steady warmth, and I found myself once again curling into Marcus's side. I didn't think about it; it just happened, as natural as breathing. My arms slipped around him in return, my fingers curling into the rich fabric of his robe. If he was surprised, he didn't show it. Instead, he simply allowed it, his stillness a kind of unspoken understanding.
My mind drifted in the quiet, the flickering light casting long shadows across the walls. I thought of the Cullens—not with the aching, hollow pain that usually accompanied their memory, but with curiosity. Mostly, ever since finding myself within these walls, ever since even just touching down in Italy, I found myself thinking about Carlisle more often than I ever had prior.
He had lived here once, almost five centuries ago, trying to find a place in this immortal world. I wondered how strange it must have been for him, to walk these same halls, to stand in this very castle among a coven so vastly different from the one he would go on to create. Had he sat in this very room, by a fire just like this one, wondering what his place was among the Volturi? Had he ever felt the same loneliness that still lingered in these walls?
I knew that by the time Carlisle had arrived in Volterra, he had been long practicing avoiding human blood, seeking out only animals as he hunted. I found myself wondering how difficult it must have been, in a castle full of vampires who ate only humans.
I shuddered as I thought the last part, but Marcus remained silent, his breathing unnecessary yet steady. I wondered if he ever thought of Carlisle, if he had known him well, or if their time together had been nothing more than a fleeting moment in the endless span of centuries. But I couldn't ask him, maybe not ever, but definitely not yet, not for a long time.
I closed my eyes, letting myself sink further into Marcus's hold. The weight of the past was ever-present here, but for now, at least, it did not feel so heavy.
I woke slowly, the remnants of my dreams clinging to me like mist over water. Carlisle. His presence lingered in my mind as though he had truly been here, speaking to me in that gentle, measured way of his. I had seen him walking through these halls, his golden eyes bright yet weary, a stark contrast to the scarlet gaze of those around him. It had felt so real.
I could almost hear his voice, soft and compassionate, explaining the intricacies of life among the Volturi as if I were a fledgling learning my place in the world. It was a strange thing to dream of, especially now. Maybe it was because this place was as much a part of his past as it was now becoming mine.
The warm weight of blankets around me drew me back to reality, and as my mind cleared, I realized something startling—this wasn't how I had fallen asleep. I remembered the couch, the firelight, the quiet steadiness of Marcus beside me. But now, I was tucked into the large, ornate bed in my chambers, the covers pulled snugly around me with a tenderness that sent a peculiar warmth through my chest.
Marcus.
I shifted slightly, my fingers brushing over the soft fabric of the sheets. He must have carried me here, ensuring I was comfortable before leaving. The thought sent a strange mix of emotions spiraling through me. He hadn't just left me on the couch, hadn't woken me or left me to fend for myself. Instead, he had done this—quiet, considerate, unexpected.
I exhaled slowly, staring up at the carved ceiling, tracing the delicate patterns with my eyes as my mind wandered back to my dream. Carlisle had once walked these same halls. How had he felt, existing here among them? He was so fundamentally different from the Volturi, from their way of life. I couldn't imagine him standing alongside Aro and Caius, watching the world through the cold, detached lens of power. And yet, he had.
Did he feel as out of place as I did now?
I turned onto my side, pressing my face into the pillow. It smelled faintly of something cool and clean, a scent I was beginning to associate with Marcus. I took a moment to bury my nose into it, before cringing as I realized what I was doing, pulling away.
You can't feel like this, I chastised myself internally, as I tried to come up with any other host of reasons why Marcus would have allowed me to snuggle against him, in front of his brother no less, but all I could settle on was that there had to be something akin to love there.
Was that possible? I knew, at least, it had been with Edward, or at least, he'd said so. My chest hurt as I thought of his name.
I found my eyes tracing the patterns in the ceiling, yet again.
Sleep tugged at me again, but I resisted, my thoughts still tangled in dreams and memories that didn't belong to me. What would Carlisle say if he knew where I was now? If he knew who had taken me under their protection?
I closed my eyes, but even as exhaustion threatened to pull me under, I wasn't sure if I wanted to know the answer.
As I rested again that night, my dreams were full of a golden haired, golden eyed vampire, living amongst these castle walls, just as I am now.