A sharp knock at the door startled me awake. I blinked blearily, the remnants of my dreams still clinging to me—flashes of Carlisle, his calm voice weaving through the halls of the castle, his measured steps echoing against stone floors. But as my mind cleared, I became aware of the dim morning light filtering through the curtains and the presence just beyond my door.

"Bella," came a familiar voice—sharp, but not unkind. Jane. "Wake up."

I sat up, brushing my hair out of my face. My blankets had been neatly tucked around me, a quiet reminder that Marcus had, at some point, carried me to bed before leaving. The thought sent a strange warmth through me once again, but I pushed it aside as I called out, "I'm up."

The door creaked open, and Jane stepped inside. She was clad in her usual deep black cloak, her expression a mix of impatience and amusement. "Good. I thought I might have to drag you out myself."

I rolled my eyes, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. "What is it?"

"A tour," she announced simply. "You should know the castle if you intend to stay here. And it would be best if the others became accustomed to your presence."

I frowned. "The others?"

"The guard," Jane clarified. "It'll be fine, I'll be there every step of the way."

Something about the way she said it made me wonder if she planned to personally ensure that they did. I didn't doubt Jane's ability to intimidate anyone into submission.

"But first," she continued, wrinkling her nose, "you need to eat."

I followed her gaze to the small table near the hearth, where a tray of food had been set out—fresh bread, fruit, cheese, and tea. It had to be Gianna's doing.

I sighed, standing to stretch. "You don't have to watch me eat."

Jane made a disgusted face, turning her nose up at the food in front of me. "Oh, I won't. But I will wait."

I gave her a pointed look before settling down at the table. The first few bites were awkward, with Jane standing stiffly near the door, arms crossed, like she was enduring some sort of punishment.

"You know, you could sit," I suggested between bites of bread.

Jane shook her head, looking pointedly at my food.

I rolled my eyes but didn't argue. Instead, I focused on finishing my meal quickly, if only to spare Jane from further suffering. When I was done, Jane didn't wait a second longer before gesturing for me to follow. "Come."

I trailed after her as she led me through the halls of the Volturi castle, her small figure somehow radiating authority with every step. The stone corridors stretched endlessly, dimly lit by sconces that flickered with soft golden light. The castle smelled ancient—of old stone, wax, and something faintly metallic lingering in the air.

"Most of the castle is off-limits to humans," Jane explained as we walked. "You are… an exception. But still, it would be wise to remember which corridors are safe."

I nodded, trying to take in every turn, every doorway, every shift in the architecture. The castle was a maze, vast and ancient, and I doubted I'd be able to navigate it alone anytime soon.

We passed a few vampires along the way—some members of the guard, others whose roles I wasn't certain of. Jane introduced me when she deemed it necessary. Some nodded in acknowledgment, others barely spared me a glance. But one, in particular, made me pause.

"This is Demetri," Jane said, coming to a stop before a tall, lean vampire with striking features and piercing red eyes. "Our most skilled tracker."

I bowed subtly to Demetri as I greeted him, trying not to betray my fear by overreacting in front of him, "Bella."

Demetri studied me with an amused tilt of his head. "Ah, so you're the young human causing all the intrigue these days."

I shifted uncomfortably, feeling put more at ease by the feeling of the cloak around me. "I wouldn't say that."

"Wouldn't you?" His lips quirked up in a half-smile. "You have no idea how much you've been discussed."

Jane shot him a sharp look, and Demetri chuckled, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "Relax, Jane. I'll play nice."

She narrowed her eyes before turning back to me. "Come on."

I followed, feeling Demetri's gaze linger for just a second longer before he disappeared down another hall.

The tour continued, with Jane pointing out key areas—the throne room, the library (which I made a mental note to return to), and various wings of the castle. She led me through an elegant hall lined with towering windows, allowing natural light to spill through. It was one of the few areas in the castle that felt open, airy even. "This is one of the few places you might enjoy," Jane remarked, noticing my expression. "Though I doubt you'll be wandering alone much for now."

Eventually, we arrived at a large set of doors, intricately carved with swirling designs.

"And this," Jane said, "is where we train."

She pushed the doors open, revealing a vast chamber beyond. The space was lined with weapons—though they were likely more for decoration than use—and a few vampires were engaged in what looked like sparring matches.

Felix, a massive vampire who I vaguely remembered from my arrival, glanced up from where he was grappling with another guard member. His grin was wide and wolfish. "Well, well, our little human guest. What brings you here?"

"Observing, Felix," Jane corrected coolly. Her voice was sharp, and it wasn't lost on me that her eyes had narrowed marginally. "She won't be participating."

Felix chuckled. "Pity. I'd have loved to see how she fared."

I swallowed hard, unsure if he was joking. Jane, however, didn't dignify him with a response, merely giving me a look that said we were leaving.

I didn't argue.

"Well, Bella, there's always the library," Jane smiled in my direction as she lead me through the halls once more, but I could tell there was still a flicker of annoyance in her expression from the interaction with Felix.

Jane led me through the dim corridors of the castle with the same confident stride as before, but this time, I sensed something different. She wasn't just guiding me out of obligation—there was purpose in her steps this time. I watched her curiously as she led me through the long hallways, her eyes ablaze. When she finally stopped in front of a pair of towering wooden doors, intricately carved and ancient-looking, I understood.

The library.

She pushed the heavy doors open with ease, revealing the vast chamber beyond. The scent of aged parchment and ink filled the air, mixing with the faintest trace of dust. My breath caught at the sight—row upon row of towering shelves, stretching toward the vaulted ceiling. Soft golden light filtered through narrow windows high above, illuminating the space in a warm, ethereal glow.

"I saw the way your expression changed earlier," Jane said simply, her voice holding a note of amusement. "You might as well see it for yourself."

I turned to her, surprised. "You brought me here because I was interested?"

She shrugged, leaning against a nearby table. "I have been assigned to you, which means your well-being—and your boredom—are my problem."

It was a deflection, but I chose not to press Jane further on it. Instead, I let my fingers graze the nearest shelf as I stepped further inside, marveling at the sheer collection of knowledge housed within these walls. Some of the books were bound in supple leather, their spines decorated with elaborate gilding, while others looked far older, their pages brittle and worn.

I moved through the aisles slowly, my gaze flitting over titles in Latin, Italian, Greek, and other languages I didn't recognize. Many volumes seemed to be historical records, while others appeared to be personal accounts, journals, and studies on a variety of subjects.

One title caught my eye, causing my breath to hitch: Enciclopedia Medica 1689.

My fingers trembled slightly as I pulled the book from the shelf, my heart pounding in my chest as I read the name inscribed on the worn leather cover. C. Cullen.

Carlisle.

I swallowed hard, forcing my expression into neutrality as I traced the letters with the tips of my fingers. He had been here. Not just in passing, not just as a visitor—but long enough to write and leave behind his work. My mind spun at the realization. How many of his books were here? How much of his life had really been recorded within these walls?

I glanced over my shoulder, but Jane was preoccupied, skimming a nearby shelf with a bored expression. Carefully, I opened the book, flipping through delicate pages filled with precise, flowing script. It was undoubtedly Carlisle's handwriting, but I couldn't read it. The text was in Latin, a medical encyclopedia detailing ailments, treatments, and theories—his observations, meticulously recorded centuries ago.

The weight of it settled heavily in my chest. I had known, of course, that Carlisle had once lived among the Volturi, but seeing the proof of his presence here, holding his work in my hands, made it feel all the more real.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Jane observed, appearing at my side so suddenly I nearly dropped the book.

I forced a small smile, carefully closing the tome. "Just overwhelmed. There's so much history here."

She studied me for a moment, her crimson eyes sharp and knowing, but she didn't question me further. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, glancing up at the metal sign hanging over the aisle we stood in.

"Anni 1600 - 1700. Latino."

I swallowed thickly. Years 1600 - 1700. Latin.

My cheeks flushed as I realized how strange it was for me to actually be in this section of the library. As interesting as it could be, there was no way I could read these books without help, knowing neither Latin nor even Italian. It wasn't like I could ask anyone to read them with me—much less the writings of Carlisle I had stumbled upon. Not to mention, Aro had already briefly asked me about the Cullens, probing for what I knew about them during our first conversation. If he caught me lingering here, reading a book written by Carlisle himself… I didn't want to think about what conclusions he might draw.

It was probably too risky, for now—or possibly forever—to even leave my scent on this book.

I hesitated a moment longer before sliding the book back into place, a twinge of loss flickering through me. The connection was so small, so fleeting, yet it felt like something vital slipping through my fingers.

"You're right, Jane," I murmured, stepping away from the shelf. "I couldn't possibly read these, yet."

Jane nodded, seemingly satisfied with my answer. "Then let's find something more suited to your abilities."

She turned on her heel, leading me toward another section of the library. I followed, grateful for the distraction.

As we rounded the corner back toward the main seating area, Jane suddenly halted, dropping into a low bow. Instinctively, I mimicked her, dipping into an awkward curtsy. My pulse quickened as I looked up, following her gaze.

Caius and Marcus sat together at a table near the heart of the library, numerous tomes and scrolls open between them. The sight was almost surreal—Caius, his severe features shadowed in thought, his expression curiously subdued. There was something different about him this time, something I hadn't expected. He didn't look angry or impatient. He looked… almost solemn.

But it was Marcus who held my attention.

His long black hair, normally worn loose, was pulled back into a low ponytail, the simple shift accentuating the sharp, elegant lines of his face. The dim light cast soft shadows across his features, making him look impossibly more perfect, as if carved from marble itself.

As Caius and Marcus looked up, I braced myself, half-expecting Caius to lash out as he had in the garden with Athenadora. But he remained silent, his gaze flickering between me and Jane before settling back on Marcus.

And then Marcus smiled.

It was small, barely there, but unmistakable. His dark eyes locked onto mine, and something deep within me shifted, like the steady pull of gravity drawing me toward him. I swallowed, suddenly aware of the warmth rising to my cheeks.

Jane straightened beside me, waiting for one of the kings to speak. But I barely noticed. My thoughts were tangled, caught in the unexpected softness of Marcus' expression, in the way his presence felt like a steady force against the whirlwind of uncertainty in my life.

I had known from the moment I stepped foot in Volterra that my future was uncertain. But as I held Marcus' gaze, I found myself wondering if, perhaps, some part of it had already been decided.