Aro stood in the grand chamber of the Volturi's citadel, cradling the small, delicate figure of his newborn daughter, Isabella, in his arms. His crimson eyes, often devoid of emotion, were now brimming with a rare and profound joy. Isabella's tiny fingers reached up toward his face, her palm pressing lightly against his cheek.
And then, it happened.
Memories flooded into Aro's mind—not his own, but Isabella's. He saw her brief existence from the moment of conception, the warmth and darkness of the womb, the muted sounds of her mother's heartbeat mingling with her own, the struggle of her birth. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced.
When the vision subsided, Aro pulled back slightly, studying his daughter with awe. "Incredible," he murmured, his voice soft, almost reverent. "You have a gift already, my little one."
He couldn't resist testing it further. He took her tiny hand into his own, hoping to see those memories again through his usual ability. But nothing came. Aro's lips curved into a delighted smile. She let me see only what she chose to show me.
For hours, Aro remained captivated by the infant. Her perfect features—her pale, smooth skin, framed by soft, dark hair—reminded him of his own sister, Didyme. Yet there was something else there, something distinctly hers. She had inherited his sharp features and, he imagined, his cunning. But she also had a warmth about her, a softness that he promised himself would never be dulled.
He held her close and whispered, "You are extraordinary, Isabella. You are mine, and you are loved. I promise you will know nothing but devotion."
Sulpicia entered the nursery a day after Isabella's birth, her movements unusually hurried for someone of her grace. The moment she laid eyes on the infant nestled in Gianna's careful arms, her icy composure melted.
"May I?" she asked, her voice softer than anyone had heard in centuries.
Gianna nodded, passing Isabella to Sulpicia. As soon as the child was in her arms, Sulpicia felt an overwhelming wave of emotion—an instinct she had thought long buried. The baby's warmth radiated through her, and when Isabella's wide brown eyes blinked up at her, Sulpicia was utterly enchanted.
"She is perfect," Sulpicia said, brushing a finger gently across Isabella's cheek. "Absolutely perfect."
Aro, watching from the doorway, chuckled. "She has captivated you already."
Sulpicia turned to him, a rare smile lighting her face. "How could she not? She is everything we have ever hoped for."
Aro stepped closer, his expression softening as he gazed at his wife and child. "She is precious, indeed. And she is ours."
Gianna, the human associate who had long served the Volturi, was entrusted with the care of Isabella, though never without supervision. The guards, as well as Aro and Sulpicia themselves, kept a vigilant eye on her. Isabella, despite her half-human nature, proved to be a remarkably easy child to care for.
Unlike human infants, she required more sleep and rarely cried. Her bright, curious eyes took in her surroundings with a focus that was almost unsettling. And yet, she was not appetizing to the vampires around her. Aro had noticed this with great relief. Whatever unique biology coursed through her veins seemed to deter the typical thirst she might provoke.
Instead, Isabella seemed drawn to baby food, her small hands eagerly reaching for the soft spoons Gianna prepared for her. The sight of her tiny mouth forming an endearing pout as she ate was enough to bring smiles to even the most stoic guards.
"She's enchanting," Heidi remarked one evening, watching from a respectful distance as Gianna fed Isabella. "If I didn't know better, I'd think she were entirely human."
"She is far more than that," Aro said, his tone full of pride. "She is unique in every way."
Despite her human-like appearance and charm, Isabella's hybrid nature was evident in subtle ways. Her heartbeat, twice as fast as a human's, filled the room with a steady rhythm that was both soothing and hypnotic. Her temperature, much warmer than any human, radiated like a comforting flame.
It was these qualities, combined with her undeniable beauty, that made her utterly captivating. She possessed the ethereal allure of a vampire child, but her living, breathing form made her all the more enchanting.
Aro had been cautious about who could interact with Isabella. Thus far, only he, Sulpicia, Heidi, and a few trusted guards had been permitted near her. He wanted to ensure her safety above all else.
"She is the future," Aro said one evening, his voice firm as he addressed his inner circle. "And she will be protected."
The guards nodded in unison, their loyalty unwavering. Isabella had already begun to reshape the dynamics of the Volturi, her mere existence bringing a new sense of purpose to their ancient order.
As Aro watched his daughter sleep that night, her tiny form curled against a soft blanket, he felt a rare contentment. She was everything he had dreamed of and more.
"She is our treasure," he murmured to Sulpicia, who stood beside him. "And we will ensure she grows to be as extraordinary as she is meant to be."
Sulpicia nodded, her gaze fixed on the sleeping child. "She will be loved, Aro. By all of us."
The time had come for Aro to introduce Isabella to Marcus, Caius, and the core of the Volturi guard. At a month old, Isabella had already begun to exhibit traits that intrigued and captivated those who spent time with her. She seemed to be aging at the rate of a human child despite her accelerated growth in the womb. Her abilities, however, were anything but ordinary.
Isabella could not yet speak, but she had a remarkable way of communicating her needs and desires. When she was hungry, she would show images of her bottle in her mind to those around her. When she was tired, she would project herself lying in her crib. Sulpicia, Heidi, and Gianna had become enamored with her gift, marveling at her intelligence and precociousness. Aro, though unable to read his daughter in the same way he read others, found her unique mind both fascinating and deeply endearing.
Now, he carried Isabella into the grand meeting hall where Marcus, Caius, and the elite guard awaited. The chamber was dimly lit, its vastness lending an air of solemnity to the moment. Isabella, wrapped snugly in a deep crimson blanket, peeked up at the towering figures surrounding her with wide brown eyes.
Marcus was the first to approach. His normally distant, haunted expression softened the moment he laid eyes on the child. Aro watched as his brother's gaze lingered on Isabella, and he could sense the stirrings of an emotion that had long lain dormant within Marcus—hope.
"She reminds you of her, doesn't she?" Aro said softly, stepping closer.
Marcus nodded, his fingers brushing Isabella's cheek with a tenderness that seemed almost foreign to him. "Didyme," he whispered, the name heavy with grief and reverence.
"I have named her Isabella Didyme, in her honor," Aro said.
Marcus's lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smile. "She would have loved this child," he murmured, his voice tinged with sorrow. "Perhaps…this will ease some of the pain."
As Marcus cradled the infant in his hands, Aro could feel the faintest flicker of gladness in his brother's mind, a spark that he hadn't sensed in centuries.
Caius, standing a few paces back, was less enthralled. He crossed his arms, his brow furrowed in skepticism as he regarded the child. "And what of the consequences, Aro?" he said sharply. "What will other vampires think when they hear of this? That they, too, are free to create hybrids simply because their leader has done so?"
Aro chuckled softly, his tone light but firm. "Calm yourself, Caius. I have thought this through. When the time comes to reveal Isabella's existence—and that time is far from now—I will decree that only those with human mates, rare as they are, may attempt such a union. And only if they are prepared to risk losing their mates in the process."
Caius's scowl deepened, though he said nothing. Instead, he gestured to the guards who stood silently by the door. "If you're so determined to keep her existence hidden, then you must ensure her safety. She will require constant protection."
Aro inclined his head. "Naturally. Isabella will be guarded at all times. And as for her well-being…" He glanced at Gianna, who stood to the side. "Gianna has procured human food for her, which she prefers, though we also keep a supply of donated blood. It is my belief that human blood may strengthen her in time."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the room. "Her abilities are unlike anything I have encountered. She communicates through her memories, showing us only what she wishes. Even I cannot read her mind unless she allows it. It is both fascinating and extraordinary."
Caius sighed, his expression one of reluctant curiosity as he stepped closer to the child. "Extraordinary or not, I still fail to understand why you created this…thing," he muttered, reaching out to touch Isabella's face.
Before he could finish his complaint, Isabella's tiny hand grasped his finger. For a moment, Caius's stern visage froze, and a flicker of surprise crossed his features.
The room fell silent as Caius's mind was flooded with images. He saw fragments of Isabella's brief life—warm moments with Sulpicia, playful gestures with Gianna, and even her own contented reflections of Caius himself, standing with his usual scowl. The memories were simple, fleeting, but undeniably pure.
When the connection broke, Caius blinked, his expression unreadable.
"Well?" Aro asked, a knowing smile playing at his lips.
Caius huffed, his voice gruff. "She's…a mere infant," he said dismissively, though the faintest glimmer of amusement betrayed him. "I suppose she'll suffice for now."
Aro chuckled, his satisfaction evident. "I knew you'd come around, Caius. Isabella has a way of charming even the coldest hearts."
As the conversation shifted back to matters of precaution and secrecy, Isabella nestled into her father's arms, her brown eyes drifting closed. Aro glanced down at her, his expression softening. She was already changing the dynamics of the Volturi, bridging gaps that had long seemed insurmountable.
For now, she was safe, loved, and cherished—a symbol of the Volturi's future and a reminder of the bonds that even centuries of darkness could not break.
Trying to update two chapter per day. I hope I keep this streak. Let me know what you think.