Aro's desire for order and power had always been a steady drumbeat in the Volturi's halls, a rhythm as constant as the slow ticking of eternity. The grand chambers of Volterra, draped in heavy silks and illuminated by flickering torches, bore witness to centuries of schemes. But this was something new—something personal.
Seated upon his throne, Aro allowed his thoughts to wander. His fingers, pale and slender, traced the intricate carvings on the armrests, his touch as light as a whisper. Power had always been his aim—not merely strength but control, precision, and the ability to bend chaos into harmony. Gifted vampires were his tools, their talents honed and wielded to ensure the fragile balance of their world.
But Edward Cullen was, an enigma.
Even among the most gifted of vampires, Edward stood apart. His mind-reading ability was unparalleled, allowing him to anticipate the thoughts and moves of anyone around him with terrifying precision. But it wasn't just his gift that made him dangerous—it was how seamlessly he integrated it with his other abilities.
Edward's speed was a blur even by vampire standards, a streak of motion that seemed to defy the laws of nature. Aro had watched him move during a skirmish with rogue nomads, the way he had slipped between his opponents like water flowing through cracks in stone. Not even Felix, with all his brute strength, could land a blow on him. And if by some miracle an enemy managed to catch Edward, his strength was enough to end any fight in seconds.
Aro could still recall the first time he had witnessed Edward in action. It had been a demonstration, nothing more—a simple request to test the young vampire's skill. Felix, ever eager to prove himself, had volunteered as Edward's opponent. The outcome had been… illuminating.
Felix had lunged, his movements precise and calculated. But Edward had already seen the attack coming in Felix's mind. Before Felix's hand could even graze him, Edward had stepped aside, his motion a flash of movement that left the onlookers disoriented. In the blink of an eye, Edward had turned the fight on its head, pinning Felix to the ground with such force that the stone beneath them had cracked.
It wasn't strength alone that made Edward formidable—it was his mind. He fought with the efficiency of a predator who had already lived the battle a hundred times over in his head.
And this was precisely why Aro found him so intriguing—and so impossible to control.
Edward's independence was both his greatest asset and his greatest flaw in Aro's eyes. He followed the rules of the Volturi, but only because they aligned with his own code of ethics. He could not be swayed by charm, nor manipulated by Chelsea's bonds. Aro had learned this the hard way when Edward had discovered Chelsea's attempts to tie him to the guard.
The warning Edward had given in response still echoed in Aro's mind: Try that again, and she'll be ash before she can blink.
There had been no malice in Edward's tone, no anger—just a cold, implacable certainty. Aro had believed him.
For years now, Aro had learned to accept Edward as he was: a force of nature that could not be controlled, only trusted. Edward's presence in Volterra had brought Aro a strange sense of security, as though nothing could touch the Volturi while he remained among them. And now that he was gone, Aro couldn't help but feel the faintest twinge of unease.
Edward Cullen was an anomaly—a vampire who operated on his own terms. It was precisely this autonomy, this refusal to bend to anyone's will, that made him both invaluable and dangerous.
Edward's mind-reading ability made him untouchable in a way no other vampire was. Aro had learned to trust him, but it was a trust born of necessity, not comfort. Edward's autonomy was both a gift and a threat—a dichotomy Aro could not ignore.
It was Joham who had planted the seed of Aro's newest obsession. The memories Edward had shared—of hybrid children, born of human mothers and vampire fathers—had been unlike anything Aro had ever seen. These beings were unique, their existence defying the natural order in ways that intrigued him deeply.
He had seen them through Joham's thoughts: children who grew from an infant, toddler up to maturity, their delicate human-like features masking strength that rivaled vampires. Their hearts beat with mortal fragility, yet their minds, their potential, were extraordinary.
Joham's methods had been crude, driven by an unrefined curiosity, but Aro saw possibilities that Joham had overlooked. What if a hybrid could be created with intention, with purpose? What if it could inherit not only strength but a gift—a power that could rival even the most talented of vampires?
And what if that hybrid could be his?
The thought sent a shiver of excitement through Aro, a strange thrill that coursed through his ancient veins. It was rare for him to feel such a sensation, given his countless years of existence, but the notion of fatherhood—the idea of creating life in a way that was entirely his own—was something he had never truly considered until now.
His mate, Sulpicia, had always been a quiet enigma in her own way. Though their bond was undeniable, something unspoken lingered between them, a longing in the deepest recesses of her mind. It wasn't a longing for more power, nor for wealth or control over the vampire world. No, it was something far more delicate—more human.
A child.
In the stillness of their private moments, when the weight of the centuries grew too heavy to bear, Sulpicia would occasionally drift into thoughts that Aro knew were meant for only herself. Thoughts that carried a weight of vulnerability, so rare for someone as proud and powerful as she. There, beneath the layers of her immortal composure, Aro had glimpsed the truth—her deepest yearning.
A child. Not just any child, but one born of their blood. A being who would be a true part of them, a living legacy—a reflection of their union, something tangible to bond them further in the endless expanse of their lives. She had always hinted at this desire, not in words, but in the quiet moments when her eyes would soften as she watched humans from afar, or in the fleeting smile she'd give when they saw newborns in the streets below, their cries echoing softly into the night.
Aro knew Sulpicia longed for something more than the endless eternity they shared. She wanted to create something that would stand beyond their time, something that would prove their strength even more solidly than their reign over the Volturi ever could. A child—born of their flesh and their venom—was the only thing that could fulfill that longing, bind them even closer than they were now.
He had often dismissed the idea, thinking it a fleeting thought—a momentary lapse in her otherwise steadfast character. But now, with the image of Joham's hybrid child in his mind, a seed was planted in his thoughts. The hybrid child had grown strong, matured quickly, and had power unlike any human could have. It was possible. It could work.
Perhaps this could be the key. Not just for Sulpicia's peace of mind, but for their legacy, for their dominion. A being born of their union would not only be a symbol of their eternal connection, but also an embodiment of their power—half human, half vampire, and stronger than either. This was not just an heir. This was the future. A gift that Aro could mold into perfection.
In his mind's eye, Aro pictured it. His flesh, his venom mingling with the mortal's essence, creating a child who would grow strong in a way that no human or vampire ever could. A child who would carry within them the unique combination of their abilities, their power, and perhaps even a gift of their own, a new talent to pass down through the ages.
Aro could already see it—his son, standing proudly beside him, his speed unmatched, his strength immeasurable, his mind sharp. This child, born of both worlds, would be the key to a new era for vampires. Sulpicia would finally have what she had longed for, and Aro's vision would be complete. A hybrid—perfect in every way.
Aro's thoughts circled around the idea, each passing moment fueling his obsession. He had seen Joham's memories, glimpsed the child's growth from infancy to teenager. It was almost surreal to imagine a hybrid, not a fragile creature but a powerful being, living and thriving, bearing the marks of both the human world and the vampire's world.
His heart—if it could be called that—thrummed with anticipation. He could feel the weight of this decision already. It was a dangerous path to tread, but Aro's mind worked swiftly, weaving the possibilities and the intricacies of creating such a being. If Sulpicia could share this dream with him, if she could find fulfillment in such a child, then Aro would stop at nothing to make it a reality.
With this thought, a new plan began to form in Aro's mind—one that would require time, patience, and the perfect human. He would find them. A human with a rare gift, someone whose potential could be harnessed and entwined with his own immortal venom. He would find a human who could bear the child he and Sulpicia so desperately desired. And when the child was born, it would be the ultimate proof of their strength, their dominance, and their legacy. A new beginning for the Volturi.
Aro turned these thoughts over as he summoned his brothers to the chamber. Caius arrived first, his expression as sharp and unforgiving as ever. Marcus followed, his steps languid, his eternal melancholy barely hidden by the faint flicker of curiosity in his eyes.
When they were seated, Aro rose, his movements deliberate. "Brothers," he began, his voice soft but commanding, "I have been considering an endeavor. One that could change the course of our kind's future."
Caius leaned forward, suspicion etched into every line of his face. "What endeavor, Aro? Speak plainly."
Aro's smile was serene, his hands clasped before him. "You recall Joham's hybrids—their resilience, their potential. I believe there is merit in exploring such possibilities further. But unlike Joham's crude experiments, I intend to approach this with care and purpose. A hybrid born of my own bloodline, from my venom and a gifted human, could be…extraordinary."
Caius's scoff was immediate. "Madness," he declared, his voice sharp. "You would lower yourself to Joham's level? To meddle with such abominations?"
"Not abominations, Caius," Aro replied, his tone unyielding. "Innovations. The hybrids Joham created posed no threat to our kind. Imagine what we could achieve with a child born of deliberate intention—a being who could inherit the best of both worlds."
Marcus, who had remained silent until now, spoke, his voice quiet but firm. "You see this as a legacy, don't you?" His somber eyes met Aro's. "Something that endures beyond us."
"Precisely," Aro said, his smile widening. "This is not mere curiosity. This is our future."
Caius shook his head, his lips curling into a sneer. "You speak as though this is some noble pursuit, but it is folly. And what of Edward? He knows your mind better than you do. Do you think he will not see through this?"
Aro's expression hardened, his usual placidity giving way to a steely resolve. "Edward is no threat. He has left Volterra, and his trust in me remains unbroken. His concerns lie elsewhere."
"And if he returns?" Caius pressed.
"Then we shall deal with that when the time comes," Aro replied coolly.
Marcus inclined his head slightly. "And the human? Have you considered who might bear this child?"
"That is a question for another time," Aro said. "The perfect candidate must be chosen carefully—someone with a gift worthy of passing on, someone who can survive the transformation and birth."
Caius let out a low growl but said nothing further. He knew as well as Marcus did that Aro's will was not to be denied.
As the meeting concluded, Aro retreated to his private chambers, his mind already turning over the possibilities. The search for the perfect human would take time, but time was something he had in abundance.
He imagined the child—a being with the strength of a vampire and the spark of humanity, a creature who could command the future. What gift might they possess? What potential lay dormant in the bloodlines of humans, waiting to be awakened?
For the first time in centuries, Aro felt a thrill of anticipation. This was more than a scheme; it was a vision, a dream that could reshape their world. And he would see it realized, no matter the cost.
That's it for now. Will be posting chapters in the coming weeks.
I'll be starting a new job soon so expect fewer updates but I can't wait to write the entirety of this fic.
Let me know what you think!