I awoke to the sound of rain tapping gently against the window. The sky outside was a blanket of gray, the clouds heavy and low, casting a soft, diffused light into the room. For a moment, I lay there, listening to the rhythmic patter of the rain, and then it hit me—Marcus's promise.

"When the rain falls, and the clouds shelter the city in shadow. On such a day, I could walk beside you."

A smile spread across my face as I sat up, my heart fluttering with excitement. Today was the day. Today, I would get to explore the city without any fear. Today, I would get to spend time with Marcus, just the two of us.

Well, almost.

I dressed quickly, pulling on one of Sulpicia's beautiful creations - a long sleeved, emerald coloured gown, complete with the velvet lined black cloak that Athenadora had chosen for me. The rain had brought a chill to the air, and I wanted to be prepared, so we could have ample time outside of the darkened castle of immortals. As I fastened the pendant around my neck—the symbol of the Volturi's protection—I couldn't help but feel a flicker of unease. It was a reminder of where I was, of who I was with.

But for now, I pushed those thoughts aside. Today was about Marcus and me - a thought that made my cheeks flush as I mulled the words over, how they sounded together. About seeing the city. About feeling, for just a little while, like a normal person in the small city.

When I stepped into the sitting room adjacent to my own, Marcus was already there, waiting for me. He was dressed in a long, dark coat, his ruby-coloured eyes bright against the gray light filtering through the windows. He smiled when he saw me, and I felt my heart foolishly skip a beat.

"Good morning, Bella," he said, his voice warm. "I see you're ready for our adventure."

I nodded, unable to hide my excitement. "I've been looking forward to this," I admitted.

Marcus's smile widened, and he held out his hand. "Then let's not waste any more time."

I took his hand, his cold fingers wrapping around mine, and together we made our way out of the castle, Marcus nodding to various guards as we passed. Some looked pointedly at the space between us, inquisitively looking up to Marcus as they noticed our interlocked hands, probably feeling the same confusion I myself was feeling about the gesture, but Marcus simply shook his head at their silent questioning.

The city was beautiful, even during the downcast weather. The rain had turned the cobblestone streets into a glistening mosaic, monotonous in its' colouring, but beautiful all the same, just as it had been during the sun when I first arrived. The reflections of the ancient buildings shimmered in the puddles beneath them. The air was fresh and clean, carrying the scent of wet earth and blooming flowers from somewhere nearby.

As we walked, Marcus pointed out the sights, his voice low and melodic. He told me stories of the city's history, of the people who had lived here centuries ago, of the events that had shaped Volterra into what it was today. I listened, captivated by his words, by the way his eyes lit up as he spoke.

"This square," he said, gesturing to a small piazza surrounded by tall, narrow buildings, "was once the heart of the city. Merchants would gather here to trade their goods, and the streets would be filled with the sounds of laughter and music."

I looked around, trying to imagine what it must have been like—the bustling crowds, the vibrant colors, the lively atmosphere. It was hard to reconcile that image with the quiet, rain-soaked square before me, but there was a beauty in the stillness, in the way the rain seemed to wash away the noise and leave only the essence of the city.

We continued our walk, stopping occasionally to admire a particularly beautiful building or to take shelter under an awning when the rain grew heavier. Marcus was a patient guide, answering my questions and indulging my curiosity with a quiet grace that made me feel at ease.

But even as we walked, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were being watched - rightfully so. Every now and then, I would catch a glimpse of Jane in the distance, her small figure almost blending seamlessly into the shadows. She was always there, always watching, a silent reminder of the possible danger that she stood by to watch for.

"Do you think she's enjoying herself, as well?" I asked pointedly about the blonde vampire lurking near us. Jane turned as she heard my question about her, flashing a dazzling smile in my direction, before she turned to pretend as though she was interested in a storefront ahead of her. I watched as she feigned interest in the merchandise in the window, putting a hand up against her chin as she 'appraised' it. Around her, the other humans on the cobbled roads were walking around her, seeming put slightly ill-at-ease by her presence, almost sensing the danger hidden within her. It was a humorous sight in some ways, and I found myself smiling as I watched her.

Marcus glanced in the direction of Jane's fleeting figure, his expression unreadable. "Jane is here simply for your protection," he said.

I sighed, watching as Jane's small form fully turned away from us, walking through the crowds with an amazing grace and lightness in her steps, "she takes this very seriously, huh?"

Marcus hummed in something akin to agreement as I spoke, "well, seeing as the two of you both came here on second chances of sorts, I would imagine she feels attached to you in some way, even in such a short amount of time."

I watched as Jane turned the corner, leaving into one of the side streets near us, before turning to Marcus, "second chances?"

Marcus smiled down on me as he stroked his thumb across the back of my hand, a calming gesture presumably as he sensed my unease at my thoughts of Victoria. However, he offered no further explanation as he led me through the rainy streets before us.

We walked for a while longer before coming upon a small garden nestled in a quiet corner of the city. It was overgrown, with ivy and wildflowers making their way through the cracks of the stone walls and cobbled floors, seeming relatively untouched compared to the rest of the city.

Marcus took a seat on a park bench, gesturing for me to sit beside him. I anxiously wrung my hands on my lap under my cloak, before Marcus finally spoke.

"Do tell me, what all do you know of this Victoria that is hunting you? What exactly set her off on this course, if you know?" His red eyes bore into the side of my head as I nervously tried to come up with a suitable explanation, barring the Cullens.

I felt an arm wrap around my shoulder, and looked up to see Marcus' worried expression. I blinked, realizing I had begun crying, tears soaking my cheeks. In embarrassment, I pulled away from him, wiping my tears on my cloak.

"I wish I could explain," my voice came out shakily as I tried to re-gather myself. But the words felt like a lie, and guilt settled deep in my stomach. I hated this—hated that I had to lie to him. The one person I felt inexplicably close to here, aside from Jane. I wanted to tell him everything, to lay the truth bare between us, but fear coiled around my throat, choking the words before they could escape. I was too afraid, still. Too unsure. And so, I stayed silent.

Marcus's expression softened as he watched me struggle to collect myself. His hand lingered in the space between us, as if he debated whether or not to offer comfort again. I could feel the weight of his scrutiny, the unspoken expectation that I would continue, that I would finally share everything that I was too scared to speak of.

But I couldn't.

The truth sat on my tongue, a bitter, tangled mess of memories and lies, impossible to unravel without bringing possible destruction in its wake. I had already told so many half-truths, woven together a version of events that painted me as a victim with no ties to the Cullens. Admitting the full extent of what had happened—why Victoria was after me, who she had lost, and how deeply the Cullens had been involved, particularly Edward—felt too dangerous. Not just for me, but for them. I found myself questioning why I was still so protective of the Cullens, given that they had left me so easily, but a large part of me longed to keep protecting them, as complicated as this was becoming for me.

Marcus exhaled softly, a near-silent sigh that somehow made my chest ache. His crimson gaze flickered over my face, searching, weighing, before he finally looked away.

"You are afraid," he observed, his voice quiet, almost resigned. "Not just of Victoria."

I swallowed hard, unsure how to respond. I had spent so much time convincing myself that I was safe here—at least, safe from the outside world, Victoria in particular—that I hadn't prepared for the gnawing guilt that came with lying to someone like Marcus. Someone who, for reasons I still didn't fully understand, seemed to truly care. I hadn't expected to find such kindness within this ruling coven.

"I… It's complicated," I finally managed, my voice barely above a whisper.

Marcus nodded, though his eyes darkened with something I couldn't quite name. Disappointment? No, something softer. Sorrow, perhaps. As if he somehow understood more than I was willing to say aloud.

"I will not force your hand," he said after a moment, his tone unreadable. "But I will ask you one thing, Bella."

I lifted my gaze to meet his, my breath catching at the intensity of his stare.

"Do you trust me?"

The question hung between us, heavy with meaning. I hesitated, not because I doubted my answer, but because admitting it felt… vulnerable.

"Yes," I whispered.

Marcus's features softened, and for a fleeting moment, I thought he might reach for me again. But instead, he simply inclined his head, accepting my answer without pressing me further.

The air had grown colder, the dampness of the evening settling into my bones. The rain had slowed to a fine mist, casting a silvery sheen over the darkened city. I found myself growing grateful for the warmth of the cloak around me.

Marcus glanced up at the sky, as if gauging the time, before turning his attention back to me. "Night approaches, while you are dressed for the rain, you are not exactly dressed well for the chill of the night. We should return."

I nodded, grateful for the change in subject. As much as I had enjoyed our time outside, my mind was too tangled in thoughts of Victoria, of my half-truths, and of Marcus himself, to truly enjoy the quiet city any longer.

Without another word, Marcus stood and offered his hand. I hesitated for only a second before placing mine in his, the cold of his skin ever-startling against my warmth. He didn't let go right away, his fingers lingering just a moment longer than necessary before he finally released my hand.

We walked in silence back toward the looming walls of the Volturi castle, the weight of our conversation settling between us like an unspoken promise. I had evaded his questions for now, but I knew Marcus, or at least felt like I did now. He was patient. He would wait.

Eventually, I hoped to myself, I would be able to safely tell him the truth.

The sky had fallen fully dark as Marcus and I arrived back to the castle. I embraced the warmth happily as we walked through the halls of the castle, coming up on the main entrances inside.

Jane, who had followed us at a comfortable distance throughout the day, halted at the threshold. She glanced between Marcus and me before giving a small nod.

"I'll leave you here. Alec will be expecting me," she murmured before turning swiftly on her heel and vanishing into the dimly lit corridors.

Marcus, ever patient and calm, waited until Jane's small figure had disappeared before extending a hand toward me once more. "Come, Bella. There is somewhere we need to be, and we are late."

Curious but wary, I placed my hand in his, allowing him to guide me through a series of unfamiliar hallways. The air grew quieter here, the usual faint hum of activity within the castle dimming into a solemn hush. It was clear that this wing of the fortress was reserved for something more important than the halls before.

When we arrived at a set of intricately carved doors, Marcus paused only briefly before pushing them open. Beyond the threshold was a room bathed in candlelight, casting flickering shadows upon tall bookshelves and opulent furnishings. At the center of the room stood Aro, Caius, and, to my surprise, Sulpicia and Athenadora.

Aro's face lit up at the sight of us, his delight evident as he clapped his hands together. "Ah, Marcus, dear one! And lovely Isabella! What perfect timing for you both to arrive."

I hesitated slightly as we stepped inside. Marcus remained at my side, his presence steady and grounding, though I could feel the shift in his posture—the way he straightened in front of his immortal family, his posture taking on a far more refined appearance.

"What's going on?" I asked, my voice quieter than I had intended.

Caius barely spared me a glance, instead focusing his keen attention on an aged parchment laid out before him on the long, polished table. It was Sulpicia who responded, her voice smooth and refined. "We are discussing preparations for a gathering, Bella. A rather special one."

Aro beamed excitedly as he continued her words for her. "A ball, my dear! A rare and wonderful occasion where our kind can meet in celebration within these hallowed walls. It has been centuries since the last, and I do believe we are due for such merriment."

A ball.

My stomach twisted sharply as I took in their expressions—Aro's excitement, Caius's barely restrained irritation, Sulpicia and Athenadora's happiness. A celebration meant guests. Guests meant other vampires. And other vampires possibly meant—

Carlisle.

And if Carlisle came, the Cullens would surely follow.

The blood drained from my face so quickly that I swayed slightly, barely catching myself before Marcus could notice. My carefully constructed lies, the delicate façade I had spun to protect them, to protect myself, could come crumbling down with a single wrong word from them.

"Who exactly will be attending?" The words came out sharper than I intended, laced with a tension I couldn't quite suppress. My heart hammered against my ribs as I prayed no one would notice the slight tremor in my voice.

Aro tilted his head, considering me offhandedly as he spoke, excitement evident as he spoke. "Ah, many esteemed guests from all corners of our world! Some are old friends, others loyal subjects, and of course, there are those we must keep close for the sake of stability. It is to be an event of great importance."

My stomach clenched, my pulse a steady thrum of panic in my ears. Old friends. If Carlisle came—if they came—everything I had worked for would unravel. I would not only have to face them once more, something I hadn't fully considered until this moment, but I would also have to answer for my deception.

For the lies I had told Marcus.

I felt his gaze on me then, as if he could sense the storm of emotions raging beneath my skin. He reached out and grabbed my hand, meant to be a soothing gesture, but I knew it betrayed that I was trembling.

"You seem troubled, Bella," Marcus murmured, his voice low enough that only I could hear.

I swallowed hard, forcing a shaky smile. "Just… overwhelmed. I didn't expect anything like this."

It wasn't a lie. Not entirely.

Aro grinned, oblivious to—or perhaps simply choosing to ignore—my unease. "You will be well cared for, dear one. You need not fret. We shall ensure everything is perfect."

Perfect, he said. I found myself laughing bitterly as Aro finished. Caius raised an eyebrow in my direction, clear confusion that I seemed to take up his same irritation at the unfolding events.

I could only hope that my world would not shatter before the first note of music even played.

The discussion continued around me, an intricate dance of voices weaving plans I had no place in. Aro's excitement was infectious, his hands fluttering as he spoke of grandeur and diplomacy. Sulpicia and Athenadora murmured their agreements, offering suggestions on decor and attire, while Caius, ever the skeptic, countered with logistical concerns. Through it all, Marcus remained quiet, only speaking when prompted, his fingers tracing idly along the edge of the parchment before him, filled with sketches that Athenadora had passed him.

I moved to a plush armchair in the room, claiming my place on it, tucking my knees to my chest as I listened. It was strange, watching them like this. This was not the cold, calculating Volturi I had imagined before stepping foot in Volterra, not the terrifying faces that had been described to me barely a year ago. There was something familial about the way they debated and teased, a closeness I hadn't expected. But the undercurrent of power was always there, humming beneath the surface, a reminder of the beings I sat among.

The weight of the day settled heavily over me, my exhaustion creeping in despite the tension bottled up in my chest. I had been running on borrowed energy, my mind stretched taut with worry, and now, with their voices blending into a steady hum, my eyelids drooped. I fought it at first, unwilling to let my guard down so easily in the midst of these powerful creatures, but the warmth of the room and the cadence of their conversation lulled me into submission. The last thing I remembered was the soft flicker of candlelight against the stone walls before sleep took me.

A gentle movement stirred me from the depths of my dreams. My body swayed slightly, cradled against something solid and cool. The sensation was unfamiliar yet oddly comforting. A deep voice, smooth as silk, murmured, "Rest, Bella. You are safe."

Marcus.

I forced my heavy eyelids open, blinking sluggishly as my surroundings came into focus. The dimly lit corridors of the Volturi castle stretched before us, their endless archways casting long shadows. My head rested against Marcus's shoulder, his arms carrying me effortlessly through the halls.

"I—" My voice was hoarse with sleep, but he hushed me softly.

"You fell asleep," he said simply, as if the act was not something to be embarrassed about. As if it was normal for a human to drift off in a room full of the world's most dangerous vampires. "I did not wish to wake you."

I swallowed, torn between mortification and something warmer, something softer. Marcus moved with practiced grace, his presence steady, unbothered by my weight. There was no judgment in his tone, only quiet understanding.

"You didn't have to…" I murmured, though I made no move to leave his arms. The exhaustion still clung to me, my limbs unwilling to cooperate.

A faint hum of amusement rumbled in his chest before he spoke. "Perhaps not. But I wished to."

Silence settled between us, but it was not uncomfortable. The castle's cold air nipped at my exposed skin, but against him, I somehow felt none of it. He carried me through the halls with the ease of someone who had walked them for centuries - and he had - his pace unhurried.

By the time we reached my chambers, sleep was pulling at me again, my grip on consciousness slipping. Marcus shifted me carefully, opening the door before stepping inside. He lowered me onto the grand bed with the same reverence one might use for something precious, something fragile.

As he straightened, his crimson eyes lingered on me, unreadable yet strangely gentle. "Sleep well, Bella."

I wanted to respond, to say something—anything—to acknowledge the warmth that spread through my chest at his quiet kindness. But my eyes fluttered closed before I could find the words, and the last thing I felt was the ghost of his presence lingering before he slipped into the night.