Alice had always trusted what she saw.
Her visions shaped her world, offering clarity where others floundered, certainty where others hesitated. She had always moved forward with the confidence of someone who knew what came next.
But standing before the Denali house, she realized there were things she had never seen coming.
She had not seen how small she would feel in this moment.
She had not seen how steady Bella would look.
She had not seen how this place—this life—was no longer hers to walk into.
Beside her, Jasper was silent, his golden eyes impassive, but she felt it—his wariness, his quiet readiness, the weight of what was about to unfold.
Alice hesitated.
She so rarely hesitated.
Then the door opened.
Warmth spilled out, golden light cutting through the night.
And there, framed against it, was Bella.
A beat of silence stretched between them, heavy with things unsaid.
Then—
"Alice?" Bella's voice cracked.
And Alice shattered.
In the space of a heartbeat, she was across the threshold, arms wrapping around Bella, squeezing so tightly she could hear the hitch of breath in Bella's chest.
She felt the way Bella tensed, the way her hands faltered before gripping Alice back, hesitantly at first, then fiercely.
Alice inhaled deeply, drowning in the familiarity of her scent.
But there was something else now—something steadier, more grounded.
She was different . But she was still Bella .
Alice pulled back just enough to look at her, golden eyes scanning her face, searching for signs of the girl she had left behind.
But she wasn't there.
Oh - echoes and shadows of the teenager she had been were, but Bella's face had lost the soft, rounded edges of adolescence. The lingering awkwardness that had once defined her movements was gone. She stood taller, more assured, her frame leaner but stronger.
Her eyes—they weren't wide with wonder of the supernatural anymore. They were steady. Measured. Knowing.
Alice let out a breath.
"You—" She huffed out something that might have been a laugh. " You look so grown up ."
Bella smiled, small and sure, but there was something knowing in it. "You look the same."
Alice swallowed the lump in her throat.
Of course, I do. We always do.
You don't.
Jasper, ever patient, cleared his throat, and Alice turned, stepping aside just as Bella threw herself into his arms next.
His embrace was more measured, more restrained, but his voice held warmth. "Missed you, kid."
Bella's laugh was watery. "You too."
The moment stretched, heavy with words unsaid.
Then another voice—smooth, lilting, and touched with amusement.
"Welcome to the Denali Coven. Welcome to our home."
Alice turned to find Tanya standing beside Bella, her stance easy but unmistakably possessive—not in a way that smothered, but in a way that said this is where she belongs.
Not just beside her.
With her.
Alice had seen their relationship in flashes before, glimpses of moments stolen between the threads of time.
But seeing it now, real and present, was something else entirely.
Bella leaned into Tanya's space instinctively, without thought, without hesitation, as if she had done it a hundred times before.
And Tanya—Tanya didn't just allow it. She welcomed it.
A hand resting at the small of Bella's back, fingers tracing small, absentminded patterns. A glance, a shift, a softening of her expression that Alice had never seen before. A silent conversation passed between them in a touch, in a look.
Alice's stomach twisted.
Because this was something Edward had never had.
Edward had loved Bella. Desperately, overwhelmingly, possessively. But he had never touched her like this.
Never casual. Never easy.
There had always been a barrier, a careful distance, a held breath.
But Tanya?
Tanya had no fear of Bella. No hesitation. No restraint.
Alice had seen glimpses, flashes between the threads of time, but she had never asked herself how deep it went.
Now, standing here, she saw it clearly—Tanya wasn't just in Bella's life. She was in her heart. And Bella had let her in completely.
Alice had expected to feel jealousy, or loss, or even anger.
Instead, she just felt small.
Because this—this wasn't a replacement.
This wasn't an echo of what she had lost.
It was something entirely new.
And Alice had no place in it.
She pushed the thought away. For now.
For now, she let herself be pulled inside, let the warmth of the Denali house wrap around her, let herself pretend that everything was still the way it had been.
For just a little while.
As the evening crept onward, and when the weight of the reunion had settled into something quieter, when the warmth of nostalgia had cooled into something softer, Bella turned to Alice and said, "Walk with me?"
Alice had expected hesitation to creep in, expected to second-guess herself—but she didn't.
She wanted this.
Wanted to bridge the space between them, to understand what had changed, to re-establish what they had lost.
"Of course."
The night stretched vast and open around them, the snow beneath their boots crisp and untouched, the mountains in the distance shadowed against the purpling sky.
Alice watched Bella as they walked.
She had changed.
Not just in the way she carried herself—more assured, more at ease—but in the way she took up space, like she belonged here. Like she had stopped bracing for the next time the world would take something from her.
She had settled into her own skin.
It suited her.
Alice wasn't sure why that made her stomach twist.
For a moment, she let the silence breathe, let herself watch the way Bella moved so easily in this life that was no longer theirs.
Finally, she spoke.
"The family—" Alice hesitated, voice quieter now. "We thought it was the right thing to do."
Bella's steps slowed, arms folding over her chest as she exhaled sharply.
"Edward thought it was the right thing to do."
Alice flinched but nodded. "Yes. He… he was convinced that leaving would keep you safe. That staying would only ever put you in danger."
Bella let out a short, humourless laugh, shaking her head. "And you just—agreed?"
Alice hesitated. "No," she admitted, her voice dropping lower. "Not at first."
Bella turned her head slightly, waiting.
Alice swallowed.
"But I saw what would happen if we stayed. Edward… he wasn't stable, Bella. He would have clung to you forever. He would have kept you human, in a world where you were never meant to stay human."
A world where she never got to grow into who she was now.
Bella's jaw tensed.
Alice looked away, exhaling. "And I—" she hesitated, her own voice wavering. "I thought maybe it would be better for you, too."
Bella stared at her, something shifting behind her expression.
Then, her voice sharpened.
"And what about me?"
Alice blinked.
Bella's expression didn't waver. "What about my opinion? My voice? The ability to decide for myself? To make my own mistakes?"
Alice had no answer.
She had made choices for Bella—they all had.
They had told themselves it was protection.
But in the end, it had been control.
Bella let out a slow breath, shaking her head. "You all made a choice for me. You didn't ask. You didn't even give me the chance to argue."
Alice felt that like a punch.
She had always seen it as protecting Bella. Keeping her safe.
But she had never considered how deeply it had stripped Bella of control over her own life.
"You thought you were saving me," Bella continued, voice softer now. "But you didn't let me decide if I wanted to be saved."
Alice closed her eyes briefly.
She knew.
She had never been so painfully aware of it as she was now.
Bella inhaled, exhaling slowly as she looked out over the snow-dusted mountains.
"I spent months trying to understand. Trying to figure out why." She hesitated. "I thought I wasn't enough. That if I had been different, stronger, Edward wouldn't have left."
Alice winced, physically flinching.
Bella turned to her now, gaze steady, searching.
"But now?"
A breath.
"Now, I can honestly say… thank you."
Alice's head snapped up, her expression flickering with something unreadable.
Bella's lips tilted slightly, something bittersweet curving at the edges.
"Because I love where I ended up."
Alice stared at her.
Bella shifted slightly, adjusting her gloves.
And then, as if sensing something unspoken in Alice's silence, she asked—
"Did you see this, Alice?"
Alice felt the weight of the question settle over her.
She thought of her visions, the certainty she had once had of Bella's future—always tied to Edward, to the Cullens, to their world.
She had never seen Bella here.
Never seen her happy somewhere else.
Alice swallowed hard.
"No."
Bella just nodded, like that answer confirmed something she had already known.
And that was the part that hurt the most.
Alice exhaled, watching the breath she didn't need disappear into the night air.
She wanted to say something else—wanted to reach for something that would make Bella feel like hers again.
But that time was gone.
Instead, she shifted, voice steady. "There's something else I need to tell you. I'll be informing everyone else tonight when we hold the war council."
Bella's brow furrowed slightly. "What?"
Alice hesitated for only a moment before saying it.
"Victoria's in Anchorage."
The flicker of emotion that had dimmed in Bella's expression ignited again—sharper this time, colder.
Alice pressed on. "She's still moving carefully, but she's building. I see her turning humans. Jasper says she's creating an army."
Bella inhaled, exhaling slowly through her nose, her posture shifting. "Newborns. Kate has told me about Newborns."
Alice nodded. "We don't know how many yet, but we think she'll try to move soon. And when she does, I'll see it."
Bella was quiet for a beat. Then—"You're sure?"
Alice's lips pressed into a thin line. "As sure as I can be."
Bella nodded slowly, absorbing the information. "And what are you doing about it?"
Alice hesitated. Then—"I called in some of Jasper's friends. People that have had a lot of experience fighting."
Bella's gaze snapped back to her. "And did you invite the rest of your family?"
Alice hesitated. "…No."
Something flickered across Bella's face—a small, quick recognition.
Alice wasn't sure if it was relief.
But she felt the shift between them all the same.
Bella exhaled. "Good."
Alice blinked, momentarily thrown. "Good?"
Bella's jaw tensed, her expression unreadable. "We don't need anyone getting in the way."
Alice studied her.
Bella's voice was steady. Cold. Final.
And Alice realised that Bella wasn't afraid, at least not for herself.
They turned back toward the house, and Alice watched as Bella's posture shifted—looser, lighter—the moment the house came into view.
And Tanya.
Tanya was waiting on the porch, leaning casually against the railing, arms crossed, golden eyes fixed solely on Bella.
Alice wasn't sure if Bella realised how fast she moved—how she naturally gravitated toward Tanya like it was instinct, like she had been waiting to be in her space again.
And Tanya—without hesitation, without question—opened her arms.
Bella slipped into them like it was second nature, like it was where she had always belonged.
Tanya tucked her in effortlessly, pressing a kiss to Bella's temple, her voice too soft for Alice to hear, but whatever she said made Bella smile.
Alice swallowed.
She had a lot to think about.
Alice had always thought that leaving Bella had been the hardest thing she had ever done.
But she had been wrong.
The hardest thing wasn't leaving.
It was coming back.
Because, for the first time since leaving Forks, Alice realised something undeniable.
Bella didn't need them anymore.
Maybe she never had.
The house had settled into stillness.
Alice and Jasper had retreated into hushed conversations with Eleazar and Carmen. Kate and Irina had disappeared upstairs. The night had finally exhaled, and yet, Tanya could see it—Bella hadn't let go of it yet.
She had been strong all evening. Holding steady. Smiling when she needed to.
But now, in the dim glow of their bedroom, wrapped in the silk softness of Tanya's robe, she wasn't holding her emotions back anymore.
Tanya lingered in the doorway, just watching her.
Bella sat cross-legged on the bed, fingers idly tracing over the fabric, her hair still damp from the shower.
She looked up at Tanya, her expression unreadable.
"Penny for your thoughts?"
Bella startled slightly, but the smile she gave in return was small, private. Those were the first words Tanya had ever spoken to her, those many months ago.
"That's an outdated price, babe," Bella teased.
Tanya smirked, stepping forward. "I'm timeless."
She slid onto the bed beside Bella, her body shifting with the ease of routine, of many shared nights spent just like this.
Her hand found Bella's cheek, fingers stroking absently, and Bella sighed at the contact, her eyes fluttering shut for a second too long.
Tanya pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Are you okay?"
Bella exhaled. "I am."
Tanya tilted her head. "Are you lying to me?"
Bella let out a breathy laugh. "I don't know. Maybe a little."
Tanya hummed in quiet acknowledgement, fingers sliding through Bella's damp hair, untangling strands gently.
"It was strange," Bella admitted, her voice softer now. "Seeing them again. Hearing them. Part of me kept waiting for… something. But I don't know what."
Tanya didn't rush to fill the space.
She let Bella sit in it.
After a beat, Bella shook her head. "Alice wanted me to react."
Tanya smirked, her fingers still idly combing through Bella's hair. "You don't owe her that."
Bella turned toward her, pressing her face into Tanya's shoulder, warm breath ghosting against her collarbone.
Tanya wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her in.
"I know."
And she did.
Tanya could see it—this wasn't the girl Alice had left behind.
This was the woman Tanya had fallen in love with.
But then Bella's fingers tightened slightly against Tanya's waist, her breath coming just a little heavier.
Tanya pulled back slightly, cupping Bella's cheek, tilting her chin so she could meet her eyes. "Talk to me."
Bella hesitated, then exhaled. "I keep thinking about Victoria. About everything that's happened." She licked her lips, gaze flickering down for a brief second before locking onto Tanya's again. "And I keep thinking… maybe it's time."
Tanya stilled.
"Time?" she echoed, voice softer now, gentler.
Bella's fingers curled against Tanya's wrist. "To turn me."
Tanya felt it like a physical thing—something breaking apart inside her, something she had wanted for so long but refused to let herself think about.
She swallowed, carefully, deliberately, keeping her face steady. "Bella."
Bella pressed forward, shaking her head. "Tanya, I know what you're going to say, but listen. I keep getting put in danger. Victoria, the Cullens, Laurent—I'm fragile like this. I'm—" She exhaled sharply, frustration laced into every breath. "I can't fight like this. I can't defend myself. If I was like you—"
"No," Tanya interrupted, voice firm but not unkind.
Bella flinched, and Tanya immediately softened, pulling her closer, pressing their foreheads together.
"I want that with you," Tanya admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "More than anything. But not like this." She closed her eyes, pressing a tender kiss against Bella's temple. "Not out of fear."
Bella let out a slow breath, her body melting against Tanya's, but she didn't argue.
Tanya shifted, tucking Bella's hair behind her ear, meeting her gaze again. "I know it feels like the world is pushing in on you. Like you need to change to survive. But that's not why you should make this choice."
Bella searched her face, something vulnerable creeping into her expression. "Then why?"
Tanya cupped her face with both hands, her thumbs stroking gently over Bella's cheekbones. "Because you want it. Because you want forever with me." She let the weight of her words settle. "Because you choose it. Not because you're running from something."
Bella's throat bobbed as she swallowed, eyes flickering over Tanya's face.
"I do want forever with you," she admitted, voice barely audible.
Tanya exhaled, her lips curving into a small smile. "Then you have it. In whatever way you want it. But not now, not like this." She pressed a lingering kiss to Bella's lips, letting the promise settle between them. "You'll know when it's time. And when you do, I will be right here."
Bella let out a shaky breath, nodding, resting her forehead against Tanya's.
Tanya ran her fingers through Bella's hair, holding her close.
She would wait for Bella.
For as long as it took.
Bella was asleep upstairs, curled into Tanya's silk sheets, cocooned in warmth. Jasper and the rest of the coven had gone hunting in the wilderness.
Alice should have left it alone. Should have accepted what she had seen tonight and let it settle.
But she couldn't.
So she found Tanya.
The Denali leader was standing on the balcony overlooking the frozen expanse, her long hair catching faintly in the wind, eyes golden and thoughtful as they traced the distant mountains.
Alice stepped outside, the soft crunch of her steps giving her away.
Tanya didn't turn.
"How can I help you Alice?" she asked, voice smooth as always.
Alice exhaled. "We need to talk."
Now Tanya did turn, her expression curious, but not surprised.
"I figured you'd come." She gestured to the railing. "Go on, then."
Alice hesitated, but finally leaned against the cold wood.
She didn't rush into it. She didn't know how.
Instead, she started carefully. "I used to see them together."
Tanya didn't react, but her fingers tapped idly against the railing.
Alice pressed on. "Bella and Edward. I saw them as vampires. I saw their life together."
Tanya was silent.
Alice continued. "They were happy." Her voice wavered slightly. "Happier than I'd ever seen them."
Tanya inhaled, slow and even, like she was bracing herself against a cold wind.
Alice turned, finally looking at her. "Jasper felt it, too. Edward's emotions. He said he'd never seen anything that strong before."
Tanya's lips quirked slightly. "Edward's feelings?"
Alice frowned. "Yes."
"And Bella's?" Tanya asked simply.
Alice hesitated.
Tanya turned fully to face her now, arms crossed, head tilted slightly. "Did Jasper ever tell you what Bella felt?"
Alice opened her mouth—then closed it.
Because he hadn't.
They had felt Edward's love, Edward's devotion, Edward's certainty.
But Bella?
Edward had been unreadable to her in many ways, but Bella had been even worse—her future flickering and shifting because she had been uncertain for so long.
Tanya watched Alice's silence like it was a confession.
"You saw a path she could have taken, Alice." Her voice was soft, not cruel. "Not the one she was meant for."
Alice stared at her, something tight in her chest. "You're so sure."
Tanya's lips tugged into something close to a smirk. "I know my mate when I see her."
Alice swallowed hard.
She could argue. She could push back.
But what was there to say?
Bella was upstairs. In Tanya's bed. In Tanya's life.
And Alice had never seen her like this before.
Tanya didn't gloat, didn't push.
Instead, she just turned her gaze back to the horizon.
"What do you see now, Alice?"
Alice blinked.
Tanya's eyes flickered toward her. "You're the great psychic, aren't you?"
Alice hesitated. "I don't—"
"Try," Tanya said, voice calm but insistent.
Alice inhaled, exhaled, let her mind relax.
And then she reached.
She let herself look for Bella's future—for her and Tanya together.
And she found something that wasn't a possibility, but a certainty.
And when she found it—her breath caught.
Golden hair beside raven, and soft laughter. A shared eternity. Fingers intertwined. A future that didn't flicker. Didn't shift.
It was solid.
It was fixed.
Alice's hands curled against the railing.
Tanya watched her carefully. "You saw it, didn't you?"
Alice didn't answer.
Didn't need to.
Tanya let out a slow breath. "Jasper felt Edward's love for Bella?"
Alice nodded.
"So what does he feel now? From her to me, me to her?"
Alice hesitated.
Because Jasper had said something earlier. A quiet murmur, under his breath, almost dismissive.
" That's the real thing ."
Alice swallowed.
Tanya took a step forward, her voice a low hum of finality.
"Whatever future you saw before, Alice, it was just one thread of many."
She smiled slightly. "And this one? This is the one Bella chose."
Alice closed her eyes. She had spent so long believing she already knew the ending.
But this time? She let herself accept she had been wrong.
The two covens had been filtering back into the house over the course of the night - and now, the war council began.
Jasper stood near the hearth, arms crossed, golden eyes sharp, exuding that same cool, controlled intensity that had once made the Southern newborns follow him without question.
Kate stood beside him, equal parts amused and deadly, fingers twitching with the urge to fight, her stance relaxed, but ready for violence.
Alice and Tanya sat on opposite sides of the long oak table.
Eleazar leaned back, watching, listening.
Jasper cut straight to the point. "Victoria is a tactician. But she's not a strategist."
Kate scoffed. "Then she's already lost."
Jasper arched an eyebrow, intrigued. "Why do you say that?"
Kate tilted her head, looking almost bored. "Because she's fighting like a predator, not a leader. She's thinking like a lone hunter, not a commander."
She flicked a glance toward Tanya. "She's acting like a rogue. And rogues? They die."
Jasper's lips curled into something like approval. "Exactly."
Eleazar's voice was steady. "She thinks she's hunting prey."
Kate's grin sharpened. "We remind her that she's the prey."
A silence stretched between them.
Then Tanya turned to Alice. "What have you seen?"
Alice exhaled, steepling her fingers. "She's in Anchorage."
The tension in the room thickened.
"She's still moving carefully," Alice continued, "all I see are little flashes, she must be mostly working off instinct."
Jasper's fingers tapped against his forearm. "Numbers?"
Alice shook her head. "I don't know how many yet, but she's turning them at an increasing rate. If she moves too soon, they'll be out of control."
Eleazar frowned slightly. "And your visions haven't shown how she plans to attack?"
Alice's jaw tightened. "No. She's unpredictable."
Jasper nodded, like that confirmed something he already suspected.
Tanya leaned forward. "And our allies?"
Alice glanced at her. "Peter, Charlotte, and Garrett should be arriving in Anchorage soon."
Jasper nodded once. "Peter will check in when he has something worth sharing."
Kate smirked. "And if he stirs up trouble while he's there?"
Jasper's lips twitched. "Then he's right on schedule."
Eleazar sighed, rubbing his temples. "You Southerners are exhausting."
Jasper didn't deny it.
Alice's gaze flickered back toward Tanya. "If Victoria moves, I'll see it."
Tanya's expression was unreadable. "Then we prepare for the moment she does."
Anchorage
Peter had come to hate cities.
Too many sounds, too many heartbeats, too many things that reeked of liquor and human filth. Too much movement, not enough quiet.
But what stood out tonight—what cut through the noise—was the screaming.
Not human. Humans couldn't scream with that intensity, for that long. They didn't flash down alleyways and over roofs, searching for a meal.
No, not human.
Newborns.
Either in the middle of turning, or looking for... food.
Peter swiped venom from his wrist, flicking it to the pavement as he studied the broken corpse at his feet.
"That's the third one tonight," he muttered.
Charlotte, crouched over the torn body, struck a lighter against her palm, the flame flickering hungrily before she let it drop.
The fire caught instantly.
"She's turning them fast." The flames reflected in Charlotte's eyes, her expression unreadable. "This one didn't even know what it was."
Peter's gaze darkened.
That was the problem.
Garrett, standing off to the side, smirked. "Sloppy."
Peter nudged the burning corpse with his boot. "Too sloppy."
Charlotte and Peter exchanged a look.
This wasn't just a newborn army being built in the shadows.
This was desperation.
Newborns were dangerous, yes—but only when controlled. This? This was chaotic, erratic. Something was forcing Victoria to move too fast.
And that made her unpredictable.
And that?
That made her deadly.
Peter pulled out his phone and dialled.
Jasper picked up on the first ring.
"It's worse than we thought."