Now that Alaric had uncovered the connection—Isobel was, in fact, Isabella Swan's mother—he couldn't help but see the striking similarities that bridged the gap between the two generations.
The similarities were as vivid as a painting, almost too pronounced to ignore. They seemed to leap out at him during the most inconvenient moments, causing a swirl of emotions within him. Alaric often found himself staring at her, seemingly transfixed, which only ignited the fiery anger and discomfort radiating from the young girl.
And she wasn't one to hold back her feelings!
"Stop following us!" she hissed with a fierce urgency one day, her voice sharp and cutting.
It was only a few days after John and Jenna's funeral, during the tense interlude between classes in the final week of school. She stood defiantly in front of him, blocking the doorway, her red top and blue jeans creating a striking contrast against the muted backdrop of the school hallway.
"What?" he replied, momentarily taken aback by her fierce accusation.
It wasn't like him to be surprised, but he knew this was precisely how Isobel would have confronted a situation. Both mother and daughter had inherited that sharpness.
"Stop following us! You're making both my grandmother and me uncomfortable!" she demanded, her eyes blazing with indignation.
"A millennia-old vampire is lurking around, and you're worried about feeling uncomfortable?!" he shot back, incredulity lacing his tone.
"He's not lurking around me!" she insisted, her voice taut with defiance.
"You don't know that!" he countered, his voice rising slightly with urgency.
"Even if he was, he needs another doppelganger, and I'm the only way he can get one!" She stormed off, her frustration palpable in the air, but Alaric raised his voice, calling after her, "He could harm your grandmother!"
For a moment, there was silence, and he hoped his words would land. But she lowered her gaze defiantly and muttered, "I'd kill myself before I let him hurt her or anyone else!"
He scoffed at her dramatic declaration, dismissing it. "You're acting like a child!" he retorted, feeling the weight of his frustration.
"Stop following us!" she repeated, her demand unwavering.
Alaric stood firm, unwilling to back down.
He couldn't stop; he wouldn't stop.
She needed to realize that this was no game.
Klaus was a real and dangerous threat to both Elena and her, and once he discovered that Elena was still alive—
Isobel was being utterly reckless!
Isobel was still just a child!
A child, barely older than Jeremy!
She didn't grasp the gravity of the situation or any of them. The stakes were too high, and time was running out.
I stormed into the house, my heart racing and tears threatening to spill down my cheeks. The air felt heavy with frustration.
How could Elena Gilbert be so selfish?
How could she?!
"Bella," Gran called out, her voice brightening the dim room as she jumped. "How did it go with Elena?"
Furious tears cascaded down my face as I turned to Gran, feeling a tidal wave of emotion. "Elena Gilbert is the most selfish person in the world!" I cried, my voice echoing like thunder as I stomped up the stairs, each footfall igniting my anger further.
I understood she was grappling with so much—Stefan was gone, and her aunt and uncle were dead—but she could be our final chance to find closure with Isobel.
But maybe she doesn't want it.
What?
Maybe she thinks she's getting a thrill from holding onto her pain, outsmarting John, Isobel, or me.
What do you mean, Bella?
Maybe she's doing this to inflict pain on them or you.
That's the most childish thought I've ever had.
Perhaps, but Elena Gilbert is acting like a petulant child.
What should I do now?
You should go it alone, Bella.
Alone?
You've offered her multiple chances; don't let her stubbornness block your path to the truth.
You're right! I won't let her stand in my way!
She really needs to get over herself!
I know, right?! It's as if she believes she's the only one who's suffered a loss!
Just ignore her; you spent 11 years without her, and you can go on living for another 100 just fine.
Right.
I decided then to tell Caroline and Gran I'd see her.
After some reading, I finally settled into bed, hoping for peace amidst the swirling chaos of my thoughts.
'Bella? Bella.' called my mother's voice.
I turned to see my parents and grandmother smiling at me; they were in tears.
'What's wrong?'
Charlie put his hand on my shoulder. 'I'm proud of you, Bells.'
'Great, but that doesn't answer my question.'
'Like we'd miss your big day.' Renee sobbed.
'You're so beautiful.' Gran sniffled.
'Thanks, but why are you here? Mom and dad are dead.'
'Isabella, don't be some morbid.' Gran chided.
'Are we late?'
I turned to see John and Isobel walking up; Isobel was in tears.
Everyone looked super excited to be here, but I was confused. I was happy, but I was still confused.
'I don't understand,' both Isobel and John gave me hugs,' what's happening.'
'Your wedding day, silly.'
'Pardon?'
I looked at John and Charlie; they were wearing fancy suits. I glanced at my mothers and Gran; they were in blue dresses.
I looked at myself in a nearby mirror.
I was wearing Renee's wedding dress, an ivory sun dress with a long train and no shoes.
Charlie and Renee got married on a beach in California.
My hair was up in a curly bun with white flowers in it.
'You looked fantastic.' Isobel replied as Renee handed me a bouquet of sunflowers.
'We're glad you invited us.' John said, kissing my cheek.
'Of course.'
Who was I marrying? I wondered.
'Bella!' called Caroline's voice.
Caroline sauntered to us, wearing a yellow sundress and holding a bouquet of sunflowers; the dress matched her hair.
'Everyone is waiting!'
Isobel and John followed Caroline outside of ... I want to say tent. Renee and Gran told me they were proud, then hurried after Caroline.
'Are you nervous?' Charlie asked as I locked my arm around his.
'Yes.'
We walked out and saw everyone I knew: Jessica, Lauren, Angela, Mike, Jacob, and the kids from the reservation. Angela and Jesse were dressed like Caroline, Bonnie, and Vicky. They were standing in front of everyone. I noticed Jeremy, wearing a tux, standing up front with Caroline.
Was I marrying Jeremy?
I saw Tyler, Matt, Mr. Saltzman, and... Damon standing behind Jeremy.
Why would they be at my wedding?
I saw Elena sitting beside her aunt Jenna, wearing a white sundress.
Why was she wearing white to my wedding?
'I'm giving you my only child,' Charlie grumbled as he unlinked our arms, 'Please take care of her.'
'Don't worry, sir,' Stefan took my arm, 'I'll keep her safe.'
Stefan.
Stefan was my groom.
That would explain why Elena was wearing white.
'You look so tasty,' a voice behind me cooed.
I turned to see Victoria wearing red.
'Stefan!' I turned to but...
But it was...
'What's the matter, love?'
I turned to my wedding party and guests and saw bodies.
Bodies and blood...
'Nik?!'
'Why so glum, love? It's our wedding day.'
Bella thrashed in her bed, her face a picture of distress as she called out for someone named Nick, then Victoria, and finally, she cried out for me.
Hastily, I made my way to her window, heart racing as I pushed it open, preparing to step inside her world. But hesitation gripped me—Bella never formally invited me into her sanctuary.
"Bella," I called, my voice carrying through the cool night air.
"Stefan, they're coming!" Her voice was laced with panic.
"Wake up!" I urged desperation creeping into my tone.
"Stefan, help me," she pleaded, her voice trembling.
"You have to wake up!" I insisted, feeling the pulse of urgency in my veins.
"He's killing Gran, Stefan, help me!" The fear in her voice cut deep.
"Can I come in?" I asked, my heart heavy with worry.
"Help me!" she cried again.
"Can I come in?" I repeated, willing her to respond.
"Come in! Help me!" she shouted, propelling me forward.
Without hesitation, I leaped through the window and shook her awake. "Bella! Wake up, Bella! Bella!"
Her eyes darted around the dimly lit room, finally locking onto me. "Stefan," she breathed, relief mingling with confusion.
In the shadows, her hair appeared almost like a dark silhouette against the background—a striking contrast to her delicate features.
"Are you alright?" I asked, searching her expressive brown
eyes for signs of safety.
"Are you?" she mirrored my concern, her petite voice nearly drowned out by the thunderous rhythm of her heart.
"I'm surviving," I replied, trying to maintain a semblance of calm.
"Same." Slowly, her heartbeat steadied, returning to its normal pace. "Where have you been?" she inquired, concern etched on her face.
"I don't want to talk about it. What did you dream about?" I pressed, wanting to draw her away from her fears.
She shook her head, a hint of shame creeping into her expression. "I don't want to talk about it right now."
"Well, what were you trying to warn me about?" I asked, curious and apprehensive.
"Huh?" The question seemed to take her by surprise.
"Your playlist. You were trying to warn me about something. What?" I clarified, hoping to jolt her memory.
"Vampires. I think it's one of your tomb vampires," she asserted, a shiver running through her.
"What?!" Shock echoed in my voice, disbelief threading through my thoughts.
"She calls herself Victoria," she explained, her voice growing steadier. "She's about Elena's height. She has this striking red, almost orange hair, and piercing green eyes. She looks witchy but sounds like golden curls and pink bubblegum."
"Why didn't you tell me before?" I pressed, feeling a mix of frustration and concern.
"I was faking it, remember?" she replied a hint of defiance in her tone.
"How do you know she's a vampire?" I needed clarity.
"Isobel told me," she said, her gaze dropping as if the weight of the revelation was too heavy.
"What was your dream about?" I asked again, needing to reach her.
"Where have you been?" she countered, evading my question.
"With Klaus," I stated simply. "What did you dream about?"
Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and she diverted her gaze. "We got married," she admitted, her embarrassment palpable.
"I'm sorry?" My mind reeled at the unexpected news.
In one breath, she recounted the details of her dream—every word spilling out in a rush. When she finished, I asked, "Would you have said yes?"
"What?" Her surprise was evident.
"If I had asked you to marry me, would you have said yes?" I pressed, searching her face for an answer.
She turned an even deeper shade of red. "Would you break up with Elena for me?" she challenged, catching me off guard.
"Who's Nik?" I inquired, puzzled.
"What?" she responded, confusion etching her features.
"You mentioned I turned into someone named Nik; who is he?" I clarified the questions swirling in my mind.
She grabbed her phone and swiped through her photos, finally showing me an image of her grandmother and Klaus smiling at the grill. "This is him," she said.
"Bella, this is Klaus," I said, surprise washing over me.
"What?" She stared at the screen, her realization dawning.
"This is the hybrid, Klaus."