Anchorage

"Even Maria wasn't this reckless," Peter snarled, ducking beneath the newborn's wild, clumsy swing before smashing his knee into its ribs. Stone skin cracked under the force, but the damn thing barely stumbled.

Across the alleyway, Charlotte let out a sharp breath, pivoting on her heel as she sidestepped another newborn's charge. "The humans are everywhere—police, reporters. Even civilians with cameras," she snapped, frustration bleeding into every word. "They're already calling her the 'Anchorage Butcher' in the papers."

They knew, of course. They had been ducking the authorities for days. Trying to avoid cameras was becoming almost impossible.

Peter swore under his breath. A human title like that meant too many bodies, too much noise. Maria had been ruthless, but she had been calculated. This was chaos.

Garrett grunted, shaking off the sting of a fresh bite on his forearm before shoving the newborn back. "At least we know what she's after now," he bit out. "It's madness."

And it was.

This wasn't just about feeding. Wasn't just about growing an army.

She was going to turn humans until she found ones that came back as gifted vampires.

They had gotten lucky, finding one of Victoria's "older" newborns—just a few weeks old, and they'd gotten the information out of him before he was disposed of.

Peter snarled, feinting left before driving a fist straight through the newborn's ribs, wrenching its spine with a sickening crunch. The body crumpled, unmoving. One down. Too many to go.

Garrett wiped venom from his arm, breathing hard. "I don't know what the Denalis have planned, but I hope it doesn't involve coming here. This place is a goddamn slaughterhouse."

Charlotte kicked a severed limb aside, her golden eyes flashing. "We've seen enough."

Peter exhaled, shaking the venom from his knuckles. "We leave tonight."

Because if Victoria thought she could do this without the Volturi taking notice—she was dead wrong.

They were already watching.

Alice and Bella

Alice was in Tanya and Bella's room, rifling through the wardrobe and laying out clothes while Bella pulled a sweater over her head.

"Your sense of style has improved," Alice noted, tilting her head as she catalogued Bella's clothes. "I mean, you always had a kind of charmingly rustic thing going on, but this?" She gestured toward Bella's outfit—dark jeans, a fitted sweater Tanya had bought her last week, sturdy boots fit for Denali's winter. "This is a look."

Bella smiled. "I'll make sure to send Tanya your thanks."

Alice hesitated, her expression faltering for a fraction of a second. Of course. Tanya.

It was impossible to stand in this room—Tanya's room, Tanya and Bella's room—and not see how entwined their lives had become.

Bella's presence was everywhere, woven seamlessly into the space. A small cactus, stubborn in its survival, had travelled with her from Phoenix to Forks to Denali. Her books on the night stand, her laptop and uni work a permanent fixture on Tanya's desk, and her clothes were now mixed into the wardrobe as if they had always belonged there.

Tanya still dominated the space—the furniture, all light wood, was hers. The decorations, eclectic yet steeped in history, spoke of a life spanning centuries. A mounted weapon—Kate's—hung on the wall. A tapestry of a fisher-woman, woven by Tanya's own hands when she was a child, draped over a chair. An oil painting of a Slovakian village, as old as Tanya herself, stood in quiet tribute to a home long gone.

It was blending, though. Changing.

Bella was making a home here.

Alice had expected to feel loss. Instead, she just felt… late.

Late to the person Bella had become. Late to the life she was choosing. Had already chosen.

She shook the thought away. She was late. But that didn't mean she wasn't here now. She would make amends.

She wasn't brave enough to ask the question that had been pressing at the back of her mind, so she settled for the next best thing.

"If you're enjoying clothes a little more now, do you think we could go shopping together?"

Bella looked up, hearing the question behind the question: Where is our relationship at? Can we still be that kind of friend to one another?

She paused for a moment. Thinking. Hesitating. Then finally reached out, fingers brushing Alice's arm in quiet reassurance. "I'd like that. Shopping isn't great here for anything beyond 'don't freeze to death' fashion, but if we drive north for an hour, there's a really good mall."

Alice grinned, relief flickering across her face. "It's a date. As soon as this Victoria thing is done." She waved a hand dismissively, like it was nothing more than an errand to be checked off a list.

Then, with a mock-serious frown, she added, "Besides, someone else dressing you? That's betrayal of the highest order."

Bella laughed. "Tan likes picking things out, and I've gotten used to accepting gifts. It's a mutually beneficial arrangement."

Alice raised an eyebrow. "Doesn't sound very beneficial for Tanya."

Bella blushed slightly. "Oh, well. Tanya really appreciates it when I show off a little."

Alice grinned, delighted. "There we go. The truth will set you free."

She was enjoying this—helping Bella pick out clothes, teasing her about Tanya. It felt like falling back into the easy rhythm of their friendship, like nothing had changed.

There was a catch in the conversation, a natural pause, and Bella let out a slow, steady breath.

Alice nudged her gently. "You okay?"

Bella ran a hand through her hair, smoothing out a knot. "Tonight is going to be a lot. Jake and Leah are going to meet the rest of the coven. Mary too. We'll be talking about Victoria. Figuring out where we stand." She exhaled. "It feels like a very deliberate first step."

Alice hummed, nodding. "I wish I could tell you how tonight will go, but because Leah and Jake are coming, I'm completely blind to it."

Bella blinked. "What do you mean? How did I miss this? Why can't you see anything because of them?"

Alice pursed her lips. "It's new. I've… not been able to do much research about it. Because it would involve calling Carlisle. And he'd ask why I'm around the Forks shifters."

Bella nodded slowly. "Yeah, that would do it. Weird, though." She hesitated, then frowned slightly. "That's… actually kind of terrifying."

Alice tilted her head.

Bella continued, thoughtful now. "You not being able to see things—that's dangerous. You always know what's coming. But with them? We're just walking into this blind?"

Alice exhaled. "I have some impressions. But details? No. The wolves make it impossible."

Bella didn't like that. She didn't like that Alice, who was always five steps ahead, was suddenly as uncertain as the rest of them.

It made tonight feel bigger. Heavier. Like they weren't in control of what happened next.

Alice clapped her hands together and stretched like a cat. "Okay, so—what are we wearing to the Big Meeting?"

Bella groaned. "I don't know, Alice. I just need something normal—"

Alice huffed. "Bella. This is a high-stakes social situation, filled with supernatural politics, centuries-old rivalries, and unresolved interpersonal tensions."

Bella blinked.

Alice grinned.

"You cannot just wear jeans."

Leah

Leah felt like she had spent all of her time in Denali waiting.

Waiting for Jake to do whatever he needed to do. Waiting for this meeting. Waiting for the moment when she'd snap and burn the whole place down just to get away from the cloying scent of vampires.

Just waiting for something to happen.

Now she was walking straight into the vampires den.

Every instinct screamed at her to stop. She was behind enemy lines.

She was trying to be calm, but her breath came too short, too shallow, her lungs refusing to expand properly. Her fingers curled into fists, nails biting into her palms. Her wolf prowled under her skin, hackles raised, a growl curling low in her chest that she barely kept from escaping.

The scent of them—sickly sweet, unnatural—had soaked into the air, making her want to gag. If it was this bad outside, how bad would inside the house be? She was too hot, too tense, her muscles wound tight, her body caught between the urge to bolt and the need to fight.

Jake nudged her as they walked, offering his silent support.

She didn't belong here.

But Tanya had offered, and Bella had asked.

And despite everything, Leah figured she at least owed them the courtesy of showing up.

That didn't mean she had to like it.

The door opened before they knocked.

Tanya stood there.

Leah stiffened. She didn't like Tanya. The wolf inside her feared her.

The Denali leader was unnervingly still, golden eyes unreadable, a predator watching from behind a mask of effortless beauty. Every movement was measured, controlled, exuding a confidence that only came from knowing she had nothing to fear. She wasn't worried—she never needed to. She already knew she had won.

Leah despised feeling like prey.

Forcing herself forward, she stepped over the threshold.

The scent of them was suffocating. Heavy, cloying, unnatural. It filled her lungs, wrapped around her, soaked into her skin like frostbite. It made her too hot, too tense, her muscles wound tight with the urge to bolt. Every instinct screamed leave, leave, leave.

She clenched her fists, breathing through it. She had survived worse.

Tanya was speaking, introducing them to the others, but Leah barely heard her. She flicked her gaze across the room, cataloging every vampire, her entire body thrumming with tension. Carmen and Eleazar stood near the fireplace, watching with polite interest. Kate was sprawled on the arm of a couch, smirking, eyes sharp with amusement. Alice and Jasper sat together, too controlled, too unreadable.

And then—

Irina.

Leah's vision blurred at the edges. The world dropped out from under her.

Her wolf, her instincts, the screaming in her head—everything silenced at once, like the universe had sucked in a breath and held it.

A scent hit her first. Cold, crisp, something sharp and clean like the first frost of winter. Not human. Not prey. Something else. Something that shouldn't fit into Leah's world, but suddenly did.

Her pulse slammed against her ribs, her breath locking in her throat.

Pale blonde hair, almost silver in the dim light. Sharp, intelligent eyes locked onto hers. Lips parted slightly, like she had felt it too.

Leah stumbled back.

The room blurred. Her chest was too tight, something curling around her ribs and squeezing. She shoved her fingers into her hair, gripping hard, forcing herself to breathe, to think, to undo whatever the hell had just happened.

"No," she muttered, voice rough, desperate. "No. I can't—I won't—"

Irina took a step forward.

Leah's breath caught.

"Stop." The word came out as a snarl, raw and pleading. "Please."

Irina's voice was smooth, even, absolute.

"My mate."

The words landed like a bomb.

Jake exploded.

"WHAT."

Leah barely heard him over the roaring in her ears.

Jake took a step forward, his stance shifting, muscles coiling, his body ready for a fight. "Leah, what the hell is—?"

Bella sucked in a huge breath.

Kate looked delighted.

Tanya was watching with curiosity, as if trying to piece together some puzzle in real time.

And Irina—

Irina was staring at her like she already knew.

"You felt it." It wasn't a question.

Leah's body locked up, muscles seizing, breath shallow.

Irina studied her, gaze steady and weighty, like she was something inevitable. Something meant.

Leah didn't answer. She couldn't.

Because yes.

And that was the problem.

Jake was still talking, voice vibrating with barely restrained fury, but the edge of it had softened—less anger, more caution. He was realizing.

"Leah, we can go," he said, voice careful now, like he was afraid the wrong word might snap something in her. "We don't have to—"

But Leah couldn't move.

She could barely breathe.

And Irina took another step closer.

She was looking at Leah, not with shock, not with hesitation, but with certainty.

Leah bared her teeth, taking a step back. "Don't. Please."

Irina stopped. Tilted her head. "Don't what?"

Leah's throat tightened. Her whole body felt wrong—too big, too small, too much, too little.

"Don't look at me like that." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "Like—like this could ever be."

Irina didn't blink.

"It can."

Leah's stomach twisted.

She wasn't supposed to imprint. She wasn't supposed to imprint on a vampire. She wasn't supposed to feel like this.

She needed to get out. Now.

She turned toward the door, muscles locking, body primed to run.

Irina moved. So fast. Just a sickening blur.

Leah tensed, expecting a hand on her arm, expecting to be stopped—

It never came.

She kept walking. And Irina simply walked beside her.

Leah reached the cars, her breath coming too fast, her hands shaking. She stopped beside Jake's, realization crashing into her.

Jake had the keys.

"Fuck."

A jingling sound.

Leah turned.

Irina was standing there, holding out a set of keys.

Her own.

Leah hesitated.

Irina just held them out. Offering.

Leah hated how easy it was to reach out.

Hated how her fingers brushed Irina's as she took the keys.

Hated how right it felt.

The moment stretched too long.

Irina's voice was calm. Certain.

"Little wolf, go for a drive. Clear your head. Take as long as you need."

A pause.

"But if you don't come back to me soon, I will come… hunting."

Leah's heart slammed against her ribs.

Irina turned and walked back inside without another word.

She climbed into the car. Turned the key in the ignition. And whispered— "I never had a choice, did I?"