The drive through Tuscany was serene, with sprawling vineyards and rolling hills stretching endlessly on either side of the narrow road. Edward kept one hand loosely on the wheel, his other resting on the leather seat of the rented car Alice had so meticulously arranged for him. He could've run to Volterra with ease, as was his nature, but something held him back. This journey wasn't one to be rushed.
The hum of the car's engine served as background noise to his swirling thoughts. The following week would bring St. Marcus Day, the grand human celebration commemorating the supposed victory of the Volturi in driving out rogue vampires to protect humanity. Edward knew better. It was an elaborate veil meant to conceal the truth of the Volturi's rule. The irony wasn't lost on him. Vampire enthusiasts and others attended to witness the celebration.
When the ancient stone walls of Volterra finally loomed on the horizon, Edward exhaled a slow breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. As the city gates came into view, his heightened senses picked up the sound of movement, the flickering of minds already attuned to his arrival. Guards were stationed all around, their thoughts a mixture of apprehension and respect.
He's here.
Edward Cullen.
The whispers filled his mind. They feared him, not only for what he might do, but because he was still an outsider—a wild card invited into their impenetrable circle by the rulers of their world. Yet underlying that fear was respect. He was a Cullen with now golden eyes, after all.
Edward parked the car in a small clearing near the outer courtyard and stepped out, his movements purposeful yet slow, unthreatening. His bronze hair caught the soft sunlight filtered through the dense Italian clouds, glinting like molten metal. He wasn't here to intimidate; he was here to observe, investigate, and, ultimately, to leave.
He was escorted inside by Felix and Demetri, their imposing figures flanking him more as a show of camaraderie than intimidation. Edward glanced at them, catching fragments of their thoughts.
Still the same Cullen. Always so composed.
Let's hope everything goes smoothly.
He nods in reply.
The hallways of the Volturi palace were just as he remembered from his last visit—dark, opulent, and cold, yet alive with history and the faint hum of power that resonated from every stone. Finally, he entered the grand throne room.
Caius and Marcus were already seated on their thrones. Caius's piercing gaze locked onto Edward immediately. In his thoughts, there was a spark of satisfaction.
Finally, you came.
Marcus, on the other hand, appeared detached as ever, his crimson eyes scanning Edward with curiosity before his thoughts flickered elsewhere. For the briefest moment, Edward caught the image of a child sitting at Marcus's feet, a book in her hands. The image faded quickly, replaced by Marcus's usual apathy.
Edward gave them a brief nod in acknowledgment. "Where is Aro?" he asked, his voice calm yet measured. He noticed the absence of Jane, Alec, and the other core guards.
Caius exchanged a glance with Marcus but said nothing. Instead, Marcus answered, his tone quieter yet tinged with meaning. "Aro will arrive shortly," he said. "We thought it appropriate for you to meet Isabella first."
Isabella. The name hung in the air, unanswered in Edward's mind. He scanned Marcus's thoughts but found them deliberately obscured, as though Marcus was withholding something deliberately.
Before Edward could press further, a side door opened, and a faint stirring of air pulled his attention sharply in that direction. The sound of light footsteps accompanied the sudden, unexpected presence.
His eyes locked onto the figure entering the room, and for a moment, his breath caught.
The grandeur of the Volturi's throne room seemed to fade as Aro stepped inside with the child in his arms. To Edward, time slowed, the echo of his thoughts dissipating as his focus tunneled to the girl nestled against the ancient vampire's chest.
The first thing he noticed was how impossibly young she looked—six, maybe seven years old at most—but that wasn't what struck him hardest. Her dark, cascading curls framed her porcelain face, and her large chocolate-brown eyes were alive with curiosity and innocence. She was undeniably beautiful in a way that felt more profound than mere aesthetics.
And she was silent.
Edward tilted his head slightly, focusing harder. Yet the result was the same: nothing. Not even a whisper of a thought brushed against his mind. The void she presented unnerved him in ways he couldn't entirely articulate.
Aro's usual regal demeanor softened into something akin to tenderness, an expression Edward thought the ancient vampire incapable of. The girl—Isabella, Aro had called her—spoke animatedly, her bell-like voice echoing in the chamber as if she were completely at ease amidst the towering power of the Volturi.
She wriggled from Aro's arms with surprising grace, her every movement fluid and calculated. Her dress shimmered like starlight, lavender and cream blending as if woven by hand in another era. Despite the grandeur of her appearance, she moved with the unguarded ease of a child, utterly unaware of the room's tension.
Edward's posture stiffened as she approached, her unwavering gaze locking onto his. The chocolate of her irises matched with her innocent expression, but there was no malice there. No predation. Only unbridled curiosity.
Aro's smile deepened as he turned his gaze to Edward, his tone warm but carrying the weight of expectation. "Edward," he began, his voice like velvet laced with pride, "this is Isabella."
When she stopped mere inches before him, Edward found himself kneeling—not out of reverence for her position but because of an uncontrollable compulsion to meet her on her level. Her eyes sparkled as she raised her small hands, gently pressing them to either side of his face.
He flinched ever so slightly at the contact, but it wasn't the warmth of her touch that caught him off guard. It was the sudden rush of emotion, sensation, life. The void that had perplexed him moments ago was replaced by something far greater.
He wasn't in the room anymore. His surroundings blurred as memories poured into his mind—so vivid and visceral that he forgot to breathe.
Edward felt the warmth of arms cradling him. Or rather, her—Isabella, a newborn, impossibly tiny and delicate, swaddled against Aro's chest. "My name is Isabella," her sweet, melodic voice echoed in his head, brimming with childish warmth. "I'm half-human and half-vampire. Father says I'm the only one like me. He tells me I'm special, and it's my job to show you why."
The first memory emerged, hazy but visceral. Edward saw her as a newborn, impossibly small, cradled in Aro's typically austere hands. His expression—normally cold, calculating—was uncharacteristically tender. A weary woman with kind, tired eyes hovered nearby, whispering soft words of love and Aro being handled the fragile infant. Isabella's mother. A human woman whose warmth lingered even as she disappeared from the memory, leaving the child in the cold grandeur of the castle.
The memory shifted, and Edward saw a scene that surprised him: Aro, Marcus, and Caius gathered in one of the castle's opulent rooms as Isabella toddled on unsteady legs, clutching Aro's robes. Marcus leaned down with a rare smile, handing her a small wooden carving shaped like an animal, and Caius sat rigid but amused, correcting her when she tried to call the figure a "dog."
"I live here, with Father, Mother, and my uncles," Isabella explained. "Uncle Marcus reads me stories sometimes, like about princesses! And Uncle Caius plays chess with me, though he says I let Father win too much." Her giggle was infectious, lighting up the dark corners of the castle.
Yet, through all the warmth and care, Edward sensed something deeper: a loneliness that Isabella couldn't quite put into words. She had no one her age, no peers, just the towering figures of the Volturi looming like guardians and wardens all at once.
More memories unraveled. Edward watched as Gianna, the human who served the Volturi, bustled through the kitchen with warm energy, carefully preparing small meals for Isabella.
"Gianna is very nice to me," her voice chimed. "She makes me human food because I don't like blood so much. I try, but it tastes…" Isabella's nose scrunched in distaste as the image of her attempting to drink blood faded in. Aro stood nearby, holding a chalice of it like an offering, while Isabella grimaced, shaking her head firmly.
Her voice continued. "Gianna makes my favorite food—chicken pasta! And she always puts a little cream on top because she says it's what makes it yummy."
The images shifted to a softer one: Isabella sitting in a sun-dappled room with a small gray cat curled up in her lap, purring.
"This is Luna. She's mine. Demitri brought her here as a gift. Uncle Caius says cats don't like vampires, but Luna likes me. See?" Edward felt a pang of unexpected fondness as he saw Isabella stroking the creature's soft fur, her small face brightened by its comforting presence. "I like her because she doesn't talk too much," Isabella added with a conspiratorial giggle.
The flood of memories stilled, replaced by a single, poignant image. Isabella stood in a grand hall, staring up at a colossal painting depicting Aro, Marcus, and Caius in their prime—stoic and commanding, ruling an age long gone. Her young face carried a somber expression that seemed far too heavy for a child.
"Father says this is our family," she whispered softly. The longing in her voice was unmistakable. "Do you think it's strange I've never met anyone like me?"
Then came the moment that stole Edward's breath. The memory pivoted to the sight of him in a portrait. He recognized it immediately—it was a faded photograph that Carlisle had once taken. He stood stiffly in the old-fashioned pose, his crimson eyes illuminated. Isabella's small fingers touched the photo gently.
"Father said this is you. Edward. He said you're very strong and good and you're special like me. He says you'll help us."
Her small fingers hovered over the image, and Edward felt the weight of her admiration and curiosity. "Your eyes are like sunshine now," her voice continued, tinged with awe. "I thought you'd be scary, but you look… nice."
The memories abruptly stopped. Isabella pulled back, her hands slipping from his face, and Edward blinked back into the present. The chamber seemed both too quiet and too loud, his head spinning as her real voice filled the air.
"Did you see?" she asked softly, hope and pride mingling in her tone.
"I… saw," Edward murmured, his usually calm and collected demeanor crumbling beneath the weight of what he had experienced.
She smiled, clasping her hands behind her back. "Good. Now you know who I am."
Edward couldn't speak. He couldn't fully process what he had seen. He felt it—every moment, every memory—as though they were his own. This child wasn't just Aro's daughter. She wasn't simply a half-vampire curiosity within the Volturi.
She was…
A sharp wave of awareness rippled through Edward, wrenching his focus to Marcus standing off to the side. Though his outward demeanor was calm, his mind was anything but quiet.
This bond… it's unlike any I've seen in centuries, Marcus thought slowly, a touch of reverence lacing his mental tone. True mates… so young, so unexpected. It has barely begun to form, but it is unmistakable.
Edward's entire being stiffened at the realization, the weight of Marcus's observation crashing down on him. His gaze flickered to Marcus, searching for any indication that this wasn't real—that the bond Marcus was so certain of could somehow be a mistake.
The threads are faint now, Marcus mused quietly, his mind turning over the discovery like a sacred artifact. But they are undeniable. With time, they will strengthen into something unbreakable. So rare… so unexpected.
Edward's body went rigid as the enormity of it hit him. Mates. The word thundered in his mind, almost suffocating him. Isabella. His senses, typically so sharp and disciplined, were overrun by the echo of Marcus's thoughts and the impossible pull radiating from the girl in front of him.
It couldn't be. How? Why now? She wasn't even…
His golden eyes darted back to Isabella, who stood with a carefree innocence that mocked the sheer intensity surging through him. She tilted her head, studying him with open curiosity. Mates? He felt the word repeat in his mind, not from his thoughts but Marcus's—so steady, so absolute.
Marcus remained silent outwardly, but Edward couldn't escape the quiet certainty of his musings. This bond… so unusual, and for hybrids. And Edward… I never thought to see him connected so deeply. It mirrors Didyme and me. So young, yes, but still, it is destined.
For a brief, harrowing moment, Edward caught flashes of grief interspersed with Marcus's realization, an ache so deep that it rooted him to the spot. Didyme—Marcus's mate, long lost to betrayal and tragedy. The depth of Marcus's pain rippled through Edward as though it were his own, starkly contrasting the shocking hope Marcus now held for him.
Edward struggled to ground himself as other thoughts clamored around him—the Volturi guard, each mind sparking with mild curiosity or disinterest; Caius, detached but wondering why Aro's prized hybrid was now interacting with the Cullen who had refused all ties; even Aro, who studied Isabella and Edward with an unsettling satisfaction but appeared completely unaware of what Marcus had uncovered.
Through the clamor, only Marcus's thoughts struck him with the clarity of a bell.
They will be unbreakable, Marcus thought again with certainty. She will complete him. Whether Edward can yet understand it, the bond is absolute.
Edward inhaled sharply, the sound catching in the stillness. His usual composure—centuries of unyielding calm—crumbled at the edges as realization churned within him. He wasn't ready. He wasn't prepared for this.
Isabella tilted her head further, the childlike movement almost undoing him entirely. "Why are your eyes golden?" she asked suddenly, her voice soft and curious, breaking the tense silence that had wrapped itself around him. "They're pretty."
The simplicity of her question jarred Edward. It should have been an easy thing to respond to. Instead, his throat tightened, and no words came. She looked up at him, waiting patiently, her wide doe eyes brimming with the unspoiled curiosity of childhood.
Edward's silence stretched until Isabella, unbothered by his inability to answer, made her own decision.
"I think they're nice," she declared firmly, beaming at him before spinning on her heel to return to Aro's side. Her lavender gown shimmered as she moved, the image of carefree grace belying the growing weight in Edward's chest.
Aro smiled indulgently as Isabella approached, kneeling to bring himself level with her. She leaned in close, whispering something to him, her expression tinged with innocent mischief.
"I think he likes me," Isabella confided softly, her voice carrying only to Aro and Edward.
Aro's eyes flicked briefly to Edward, his expression warm but unsuspecting. "Perhaps he does, little one," he replied lightly, running a fond hand over her dark curls. His tone lacked any of the knowing calculation Edward had feared.
Edward exhaled shakily, even as his hands curled into fists at his sides. The growing pressure inside him felt unbearable. Aro didn't know. Not yet.
But Marcus did.
Edward stole one more glance at Marcus, catching the elder vampire's measured gaze and quiet sense of vindication. In that single shared look, Edward realized the truth he could no longer deny.
This child—this impossibility—was his mate. His entire world had just changed. And there was no escaping what lay ahead.
If you're not familiar, let me offer a quick explanation. In canon, Marcus has the ability to see the connections between people—whether they're familial, romantic, or built on camaraderie. It's his gift, and Aro uses it to measure how strong a bond is. If the bond is weak—especially when it involves a coven with a gifted member—they'll use Chelsea to weaken that bond and tie the member to the Volturi.
If we had gotten a book of Edward POV for New Moon, we might've seen a scene where Marcus noticed Edward and Bella's connection when they were in Volterra and that's how Edward understood that they were always meant to be together. In this fanfic, the bond isn't fully established yet, but it's clear they've linked. It's for them to nurture, almost like an imprint. LMAO
Isabella is such a cutie pie! Please enjoy this update—I truly appreciate your reviews. Thank you so much!