Bella

Bella had never meant to move in .

It had just… happened.

One day, she was staying for protection. The next, she was waking up in Tanya's bed every morning, finding her books stored alongside the others on the Denali bookshelves, her laptop permanently set up on Tanya's desk, and opening the kitchen cabinets only to realize she had memorized exactly where Carmen stored the tea.

Her apartment had become an afterthought. A place she was technically renting, but hadn't actually set foot in for weeks.

There was a rhythm to life in the Denali house that Bella had started to love.

It was different from the Cullens—less restrained, less formal. There were no rigid expectations, no carefully curated displays of civility. The Denalis were loud, teasing, unapologetic.

Bella didn't feel like an outsider trying to fit in.

She was curled up on the oversized couch in the living room, tucked beneath Tanya's arm, her scent of wildflowers and snow lingering in the air. Eleazar was reading, Kate was sprawled out with her legs across the coffee table, and Irina was unusually quiet, lost in thought. Carmen was in the kitchen, humming softly to herself as she prepared tea—because of course Bella needed tea at all times, according to her.

It felt… right.

Bella sighed contentedly, pressing her face into Tanya's shoulder, content in the warmth of the moment. The glowing feeling in her chest.

"You're so comfortable," she murmured.

Tanya hummed, her fingers trailing lazily up and down Bella's arm. "I better be."

Bella's mind drifted. She thought about Tanya, about how easy this felt, about how much she liked kissing her, touching her, being wrapped up in her. About how good she was in bed. About how—

"Vampussy is undefeated."

The words slipped out before Bella even realized she'd said them out loud .

The room went dead silent .

Bella blinked, processing the fact that, yes, she had just said that. In front of the entire Denali coven.

Kate made a strangled choking sound. Carmen, still in the kitchen, turned so slowly it was like watching a horror movie unfold in real time. Eleazar's book lowered an inch, his eyebrows climbing so high they nearly disappeared into his hairline.

Tanya… Tanya grinned .

"Oh, darling," she purred, golden eyes shining with mirth. "That's the highest praise I've ever received."

Kate lost it , howling with laughter so loudly it probably echoed through the mountains.

Irina, for the first time since Laurent, actually smirked .

Bella's face went up in flames. "I—I didn't mean—"

"Oh, no, no, no," Kate gasped between laughter, clutching her stomach. "You absolutely did mean it."

Carmen, ever composed, simply shook her head, but there was amusement in her gaze. "Bella, cariño , I am happy you are… satisfied … but maybe keep some thoughts inside your head?"

Bella groaned, covering her face with her hands. "I hate all of you."

"Lies," Tanya said easily, pressing a kiss to the top of Bella's head.

Kate was still wheezing. "This is—this is the best day of my life."

Bella groaned again, sinking further into the couch, willing herself to disappear.

Eventually, the teasing died down, but Bella knew that she was never going to live that down.

The house settled into a peaceful quiet—Irina had disappeared somewhere, Carmen and Eleazar had retreated into their books, and Kate had gone to do whatever it was Kate did when left unsupervised.

Bella, finally regaining some of her dignity, curled back against Tanya, exhaling slowly.

"I really do love being here," she admitted softly.

Tanya's arms tightened around her. "I know."

Bella traced small circles against Tanya's thigh, thoughtful. "It feels like… like it was always supposed to be like this."

Tanya pressed a soft kiss to her hair. "It was."

"My apartment lease renews at the end of the year," Bella said, voice casual—but Tanya knew her too well.

Tanya tilted her head slightly, waiting.

Bella hesitated, then exhaled. "I was thinking… maybe I shouldn't renew it." She bit her lip, her fingers tracing absent patterns against Tanya's arm. "I mean, if that's okay. If it wouldn't be too much. If you—" She stopped, realizing she was rambling.

Tanya's lips curled into a slow, knowing smile. " Bella Swan, " she murmured, shifting so she could look her mate in the eye. "Are you asking to move in with me?"

Bella groaned, dropping her forehead against Tanya's shoulder. "You make it sound so—"

"Romantic? Serious? Committed?" Tanya teased, amusement glinting in her golden eyes.

Bella sighed. "Stop being smug about this."

Tanya chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Bella's head. "Never." Then, more gently, "Everything I have is yours, vtáčik môj. You don't have to ask. This is your home. I would be honoured if you stayed."

Warmth spread through Bella's chest.

Before she could respond, Tanya easily lifted her into her lap, settling her close. Bella instinctively curled into the embrace, tucking her head into the crook of Tanya's neck, letting herself relax into the feeling of being wanted.

They stayed like that for a while.

The sisters had told Bella what had happened to Laurent.

Tanya hadn't gone into detail, but Bella understood the implication. Laurent was dead.

Irina had needed time—time to process, to grieve, to understand what had happened and what it meant.

As for Victoria… She was still out there. They had no doubt about it now.

Bella blew out a long breath, her fingers stilling against Tanya's leg. "So, we wait?"

"For now," Tanya said, voice quiet. "We prepare."

Irina had withdrawn, keeping mostly to herself. The loss of Laurent—the betrayal of it—was weighing on her. Kate had kept close, giving her space but not leaving her alone.

And the rest of them? They were waiting.

Because Victoria was coming.

And when she did?

The Denalis would be ready.

Bella didn't know it, but she had this moment—this quiet, this peace—because Tanya let her have it.

For now, she could bask in the warmth of her friendships, the joy of her normal life.

But as soon as Bella was safe, Tanya had work to do.

Because Alice had been right about one thing—Mary was getting too close.

Irina

Irina hadn't gone far.

She hadn't left the Denali house, hadn't stormed off into the snow like some tragic figure, but she had withdrawn. Since Laurent's death, she had mostly just stayed in her room, sitting stiffly on the edge of her bed, staring out at the frozen landscape beyond the glass.

She didn't know what she was waiting for. She didn't know how to get past… this.

The grief wasn't the kind that tore through her like a storm—it was quieter, duller, a hollow ache in her chest. She wasn't mourning him. She was mourning what he represented.

A possibility.

She had let herself hope for the first time in centuries. Hope that maybe, she wasn't one of the unlucky ones. That maybe she wouldn't have to spend eternity waiting. That there could be something now. Something real .

She should have known better.

A knock at the door interrupted her downward spiral. She ignored it.

Didn't matter. The door opened anyway.

Kate strolled in, carrying a steaming mug. "Carmen made you tea."

Irina snorted. "Tea?"

Kate shrugged. "You're human-adjacent now, apparently. Might as well embrace it."

Irina shook her head, but took the mug anyway, letting the warmth seep into her hands. Savouring the scent of the tea blend that had been chosen.

Kate flopped onto the bed beside her, quiet for a long moment before saying, "You know, you really know how to pick 'em."

Irina sighed. "Kate really…"

"No, I mean it," Kate said, her voice flat with dry amusement. "Your taste is awful. Like, genuinely, impressively terrible. Laurent? Really?"

Irina huffed out something close to a laugh. "I know. "

Kate nudged her shoulder. "So. You want me to insult him until you feel better?"

Irina hesitated. Then—finally—she cracked a small, reluctant smile.

Kate grinned. "Good. Because I have so much material. "

It didn't fix everything. It didn't erase the shame or the regret. But it helped.

A little.

Mary

Mary was a creature defined by her instincts.

And right now?

Her instincts were shouting from the rooftops.

Bella had been distant—not just busy, not just distracted, but gone. Texts went answered, but took hours to come back. Calls were returned, but as they talked she could tell Bella's mind was elsewhere. The casual drop-ins to Mary's apartment had stopped completely. The quick exchanges during uni lectures, or in the halls between classes wasn't enough.

It wasn't normal for Bella to act like this.

So Mary had done what any good journalist—and any better friend—would do.

She set a trap.

Mary: Lunch at the Haven. You, me, and James. No excuses.

She sent the text, then deliberately put her phone face down on the table. Ignoring it while she worked.

Minutes passed.

Then—

Bella: You buying?

Mary rolled her eyes but smirked.

Mary: I'll consider it if you actually show up.

Bella: I'll be there.

That was good. That was progress. But Mary wasn't just looking to catch up. She was looking for answers.

And she was going to get them.

Bella arrived on time, slipping into the booth across from Mary and James like she hadn't just vanished off the face of the earth for the past few weeks.

Mary took her in immediately, scanning for anything off —bruises, tension, signs of stress—but… no. Nothing.

Bella didn't look tired.

She didn't look like someone caught up in something she couldn't control.

She looked… happy .

Suspiciously happy.

James shot Mary a look over his coffee like he had noticed the same thing.

"So," Mary started, leaning on her elbows. "You do remember we exist. That's a relief."

Bella huffed a laugh, shaking her head. "I know, I know. I suck. I've just been… preoccupied."

Mary's eyes narrowed. Preoccupied was an interesting word.

James, ever the instigator, grinned. "With a certain blonde?"

Bella's cheeks went a little pink, but she had a grin on her face as she said "Maybe."

Mary leaned back, sipping her drink. "So, tell me about her."

Bella's lips parted slightly—like she hadn't expected the question. Like she hadn't realized how much she wanted to talk about Tanya.

And then, it was like a dam broke.

"She's… incredible," Bella admitted, a soft, private smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "She's funny. Smart. Teasing in a way that never feels cruel. She makes me feel—" She hesitated, struggling for words. "Like I belong."

Mary blinked.

That was… not what she had been expecting.

Bella wasn't just dating someone.

She was gone .

Completely, utterly, hopelessly gone.

James grinned. "You're in deep, huh?"

Bella laughed openly. "Yeah. I guess I am."

Mary, despite her lingering wariness, couldn't help but feel the warmth behind those words.

Bella was happy.

Not just infatuated. Not just distracted.

Happy.

Mary exhaled, slowly setting her drink down. "Okay," she said. "That's… okay."

Bella tilted her head. "That's okay?"

Mary smirked. "I was going to grill you, interrogate you, maybe demand some kind of hostage exchange for all the time you've been missing." She shrugged. "But you're good. That's what matters."

Bella's expression softened. "Thanks, Mary."

James nudged her playfully. "Still doesn't mean you're getting out of this without buying us dessert."

Bella rolled her eyes. "Fine. One dessert."

"Each," James added quickly.

Mary laughed. And for the first time in weeks, she stopped worrying.

At least for today.

Bella

Bella wasn't sure how Tanya had managed to convince her to dress up, but here she was—standing in front of the mirror, smoothing down the sleek black dress that fit her better than she had any right to expect.

She turned slightly, eyeing the way the fabric clung to her hips. Tanya definitely picked this out with an agenda.

"I can feel you thinking too hard."

Bella turned to find Tanya leaning casually against the doorway, golden eyes dragging over her in open appreciation. She looked unreal—her hair was in elegant waves, her deep emerald dress hugging every curve, a slit running up one side that revealed just enough to be distracting.

Bella swallowed. "You look—"

Tanya smirked. "Say the word breathtaking, and I'm making you find a new one."

Bella huffed. "Fine. You look unfair."

Tanya let out a low, pleased hum, stepping into the room, hands settling on Bella's waist as she leaned in close. "That's better," she murmured. "And you…" She let her lips ghost just below Bella's ear. "Are perfect."

Bella melted, her hands gripping Tanya's arms to steady herself. "If you keep this up, we're never leaving."

Tanya grinned, pressing a kiss to Bella's jaw before pulling back. "Then let's go before I decide to keep you all to myself."

The restaurant was softly lit, elegant without being ostentatious. Bella still wasn't entirely sure how Tanya had pulled this together on such short notice, but she wasn't surprised. Tanya could probably waltz into a Michelin-starred restaurant in the middle of dinner service and get a table with nothing more than a charming smile.

They were tucked into a private booth, the ambient glow of candlelight casting a golden sheen over Tanya's skin.

"You're staring again," Tanya said, sipping from her wine glass.

Bella rested her chin in her hand. "I'm your mate. I get to look."

Tanya smirked. "You do."

The conversation flowed as easily as ever—light teasing, stories from Tanya's long life, and soft, meaningful silences that held more weight than words ever could.

At some point, Bella arched a brow at Tanya's wine glass. "You do know that does absolutely nothing for you, right?"

Tanya swirled the deep red liquid idly, watching the way it caught the light. "Oh, I know," she said, taking a slow sip anyway. "But I enjoy it. The taste, the ritual of it. It's… indulgent." Her lips quirked. "And if I have to sit here watching you enjoy your meal, I deserve a little indulgence of my own."

Bella hummed. "Are you jealous of my pasta?"

Tanya gave her a look. "A little."

Bella grinned, stabbing a forkful dramatically. "That's unfortunate."

Tanya huffed a laugh, reaching across the table, taking Bella's hand, her fingers tracing slow, absent-minded patterns along the back of her knuckles. The gesture was so casual, so natural, that Bella's heart clenched.

She had never felt this at ease with someone before.

And she had never been this sure of anything in her life.

The realization settled in her chest, warm and steady, and before she could talk herself out of it, she squeezed Tanya's hand and said, softly, "I love you."

Tanya stilled.

For a moment, Bella wondered if she had miscalculated—if she had broken some unspoken rule of supernatural pacing, if she should have waited longer, if—

Then Tanya was moving, bringing Bella's hand to her lips, pressing a slow, lingering kiss against her fingers.

She didn't speak at first—just held Bella's gaze, golden eyes soft with something unreadable. Something weighty. Something that wrapped around Bella like a second skin.

Tanya exhaled, as if grounding herself. Then, quietly—

"You have no idea how long I've loved you."

Bella's breath caught.

Tanya's smile was warm, sure, laced with the kind of certainty that made Bella's pulse stutter.

Bella exhaled, warmth spreading through her. "That wasn't too soon, was it?"

Tanya chuckled, squeezing Bella's hand. "If anything, you kept me waiting."

Their server cleared their throat, and Bella startled, realizing that their next course had arrived at some point.

Tanya smirked at her. "Looks like you're going to have to take a break from adoring me."

Bella rolled her eyes. "Tragic."

They ate, falling into easy conversation—Bella teasing Tanya about her absurdly high standards for wine, Tanya smirking at Bella's predictable order of something pasta-related.

By the time the check was paid, Bella felt light, like she was floating.

Tanya placed a hand on the small of her back as they stepped outside, the crisp night air biting at Bella's skin. The moment stretched, filled with something soft and charged.

And then—

Tanya leaned in, lips brushing the shell of Bella's ear, voice a low, sultry whisper—

"Let's go see if I'm still undefeated."

Bella choked.

Tanya chuckled, pressing a kiss to Bella's jaw before guiding her toward the car.

"That's what I thought."

Jake and Leah

The cold hit them instantly.

Denali was nothing like Forks. The air was sharper, cleaner, cutting through their clothes like a living thing. The snow beneath their boots crunched with each step, and the temperature contrast was so stark that both of them could see it—steam rising off their skin, curling into the night air like mist rolling off the ocean.

Leah exhaled slowly, watching the way her own body seemed to fight against the cold, radiating warmth into the frozen air around them.

Jake noticed it too, rubbing his hands together. "We look like we're about to combust."

Leah smirked. "Wouldn't be the worst way to go."

Jake huffed a laugh, shaking his head. His nerves were a barely contained buzz beneath his skin, an anxious energy that had settled in his bones the moment they crossed into town. He didn't quite know what to expect, but the thought of seeing Bella again—of really seeing her, after so much time—made something twist tight in his chest.

He wanted this. He wanted to see her.

But he wasn't sure he was ready for whatever came next.

Leah, on the other hand, wasn't nervous.

She was… anticipatory.

There was something about this place. A weight in the air, a pull beneath her skin, like she was standing on the edge of something important. Like she was supposed to be here.

And with every step forward, she felt it less like a pull and more like a shedding.

No more Sam. No more pack politics. No more elders whispering about duty and tradition.

For the first time in years, Leah felt untethered. Free.

This wasn't just a change of scenery. It was the first step toward something new—toward a future she hadn't let herself hope for.

And this step?

It felt right.

Jake let out a sharp breath, rolling his shoulders like he was shaking something off. He looked at Leah, expression somewhere between determined and uncertain.

"Well," he said, voice lighter than before. "Let's go see what's waiting for us."

Leah arched a brow but said nothing.

She was here. She was free. These were the first steps of the rest of her life.

And something in her gut told her that Denali was just the beginning.