The council chamber was shrouded in gloom, the candlelight throwing distorted shadows across the cold marble floor. Aro sat at the head of the room, his expression calm but his crimson eyes sharp, scanning the newest letter splayed out on the table before him. Its words, taunting and cruel, were burned into his mind.
"Do you feel it? The weight of your crumbling empire? All things come to an end, even shadows dissolve in the dawn. The Volturi have ruled too long."
Caius paced like a caged predator, his white-blond hair gleaming under the flicker of torchlight, his every step reverberating through the silent hall. He finally snapped, slamming his palm against the edge of the long table.
"Why can't we catch these rats?" he growled, his voice a low snarl. "Every day another letter, more of this cowardice! I'm tired of these games. Letters, really? Why don't they show up and settle this for good?"
"They're toying with us, brother," Marcus intoned, his voice a weary drawl. "It's what weak challengers do—they hide in the shadows and hope to sow discord. It's expected."
Caius shot him a glare before turning back to Aro. "We must act now," he hissed. "Let Demetri track those idiots, and we finish them. Enough waiting, enough deliberation!"
Aro leaned back in his chair, one finger tracing the edge of the parchment thoughtfully. His composure only fueled Caius's irritation, but Aro remained unmoved.
"You know it's not that simple, Caius," he said calmly, his voice barely above a whisper. "We know nothing of who or what lies behind these letters. If Stefan and Vladimir are indeed orchestrating this, it would be unwise to underestimate them. They are not without resources, and their patience has served them well over the centuries."
Caius sneered. "And you would have us sit and wait while they humiliate us? Each letter is a stain on our authority! How can our guard respect us when our enemies mock us so openly?"
"Patience," Aro replied firmly. His voice had lost its softness, cutting through Caius's frustration like steel. "That is what we need now. Charging forward without understanding what we are facing will not strengthen us—it will weaken us. This game they play, as crude as it may be, gives us the advantage. They think they are safe. We will use that arrogance against them."
Caius paused, his lips pressed into a thin line, but he was clearly unsatisfied. After a long, tense silence, he spoke again.
"There is another way," he suggested, his voice low and calculated. "Bring Edward back. His talent—his ability to read minds—it could root out the traitor or help us uncover these fools' plans."
At the mention of Edward's name, Aro's expression tightened, a flicker of conflict crossing his otherwise composed face. He leaned forward, lacing his fingers together as he considered Caius's proposal.
"No," he said after a moment. His tone carried a finality that made even Caius pause.
"No?" Caius echoed, his eyebrows lifting in incredulity. "Why? His gift is invaluable! You know what he can do."
Aro stood, moving to the grand window overlooking Volterra. He clasped his hands behind his back, his eyes distant as he gazed at the city below. "Edward's return would bring… complications," he said slowly.
"Complications?" Caius barked, disbelief dripping from his voice. "He helped us well in the past. You kept him here for decades because of his usefulness!"
Caius scoffed. "And you let that get in the way of strategy? Aro, this is war. His objections are irrelevant."
Aro's crimson gaze narrowed. "Not when those objections could reignite past hostilities within our own walls," he said, his tone firm. "And there is another matter you've failed to consider, Caius."
"And what is that?" Caius snapped.
"Isabella," Aro replied.
"Isabella?" Caius's voice broke the silence, sharp and incredulous. "You're denying his usefulness because of the hybrid?"
Aro didn't turn around, but the tension in his posture was unmistakable. "Yes, Caius," he replied, his tone calm but taut as a bowstring.
"You cannot be serious," Caius spat, rising from his seat. "She is but a child, hidden under the guard of our most capable, and yet you let her existence dictate your decisions? Edward is a weapon—his gift unparalleled. The letters taunt us, threaten us, and you think protecting her is the solution to this farce?"
"Enough!" Aro's voice, uncharacteristically loud, resonated off the stone walls, freezing everyone in place. Slowly, he turned, his crimson eyes blazing. "You think me a fool, brother? That I am blind to the risk she poses? That I do not see the peril of guarding a child whose very nature is a revelation of our deepest vulnerability?"
Caius held his ground, but his glare wavered under the raw emotion in Aro's gaze.
"You speak as if she is just a child," Aro continued, his voice lowering but losing none of its force. "But she is no mere mortal, no fleeting life we can dismiss and forget. Isabella is…" He paused, exhaling slowly as though releasing a burden. "She is a hybrid—something none of us thought possible until her."
"And that makes her our weakness!" Caius countered, his fists clenching at his sides. "A vulnerability in the very fortress we have built over centuries. She should not exist, Aro. You know this as well as I do."
"She exists because I willed it," Aro retorted, stepping closer to Caius, his presence suddenly more imposing. "And as long as I breathe, as long as I command this coven, her existence will remain a secret. Her safety will remain my priority."
The words stilled the room. Even Caius faltered, his brows furrowing. Aro turned to look at Marcus, his jaw tightening as the weight of that single phrase settled around them.
"She is my daughter," Aro admitted softly, his expression raw in a way rarely seen. "She is my daughter, not only by blood, but by choice. Do you understand what that means? For her, I would endure any slight, any insult, any challenge. This isn't about her nature; it's about her innocence. She did not ask for this life. I gave it to her, and I will not abandon her to the wolves because it would be convenient."
Caius's voice softened, though it still carried an edge. "Convenience has nothing to do with this, Aro. You must know the others—the Romanians, any rivals we have—they would tear her apart first if they learned of her existence. Her destruction would precede ours."
"That is why her protection must be absolute," Aro said firmly. "If anyone so much as suspects her existence, if a whisper of her nature leaves this chamber, we may as well throw open the gates of Volterra. No army, no talent could match what would come for her."
The room fell into a heavy silence, each ruler consumed by their own thoughts. The candlelight flickered, casting eerie shadows that seemed to crawl along the walls.
Caius broke the silence again, though his tone was quieter now. "And Edward?"
Aro's face darkened, his crimson gaze narrowing. "Edward would condemn me for what I've done. His self-righteousness has always been his greatest flaw. He cannot see the shades of grey in our choices, only black and white. He would see Isabella not as a child, not as an innocent, but as an affront to nature. And if he turns against us…"
Marcus finished the thought. "He turns against the Volturi."
Aro nodded gravely. "Edward challenged me before, years ago. You both remember his words—the disgust in his eyes as he questioned our rulings, our purpose. If he learns of Isabella… he will see her as proof of our corruption, another reason to defy me."
"And what then?" Caius pressed. "You protect her, but if we lose him, what happens when he aligns with our enemies? Stefan and Vladimir would welcome his talents."
"That is a risk I will not take," Aro said firmly. "Not now. We fight one battle at a time. First, we find the source of these letters. We root out the spy within our walls. Then, and only then, will I consider the possibility of involving Edward."
The tension in the room remained palpable, but Caius, at last, relented, his shoulders lowering as he took his seat again.
"And Isabella?" Marcus asked, his voice measured but heavy with meaning.
"She will remain under the watchful eyes of our guard," Aro replied. "Jane and Alec will watch over her—discreetly but closely. I will allow no harm to come to her, not even a whisper of risk."
"And what of her?" Marcus asked, his gaze thoughtful. "The child knows something is amiss. How long do you think she will remain content in the dark?"
Aro hesitated for a brief moment, then shook his head. "She is perceptive, yes. But she is also young. The weight of our world need not burden her shoulders—not yet."
His voice grew softer, almost wistful. "Isabella must remain the light in our darkness. She is too precious to risk, too innocent to lose."
Outside, a faint wind howled, pressing against the fortress of Volterra. Inside, a fragile balance hung in the air, bound by secrets, conflicting loyalties, and the shadow of an unseen threat.
It's funny to think that Aro believes Edward will turn against them because of his decision to create a hybrid. Just wait until he meets Bella.