The forest stretched vast and silent around Edward, shadows pooling between the towering pines. He moved like a wraith, his movements so smooth and swift they barely disturbed the branches overhead. His chest felt tight, his thoughts warring in the aftermath of his encounter with Isabella.
Her face, delicate and innocent, was burned into his mind. He had seen beauty in his centuries of existence, but there was something unparalleled about hers—something that tugged at him beyond aesthetics. It wasn't love. Not the kind he understood or was ready to examine. It was protectiveness so primal it clawed at his every thought, demanding his focus, his presence, his strength.
He didn't realize where his feet had taken him until he stood at the edge of a rocky cliff, overlooking a dark canyon where the quiet roar of a mountain lion broke the stillness. His throat burned, a low growl building in his chest as instinct overrode reflection. In a heartbeat, the hunt began.
Edward wiped the last trace of blood from his lips, his body buzzing faintly from the adrenaline of the hunt. The mountain lion lay silent behind him, its powerful body reduced to sustenance. His crimson eyes were darker now, calmer, but his mind was as turbulent as the wild river below.
He had a mate.
After centuries of existence—of loneliness so ingrained it felt like the marrow of his being—he had finally found her. And yet, it wasn't what he had imagined. Isabella was a child, her laughter still ringing with the carefree sweetness of youth.
He tried to reconcile the idea with the reality. He knew vampires did not follow mortal conventions. He had witnessed the devotion of mates countless times—a force more profound than anything else in their eternal lives. But this… this was unlike anything he had ever known.
"I'll be whatever she wishes me to be," Edward whispered to himself, his voice barely audible over the rushing wind. His instincts demanded he protect her at all costs, to never let her out of his sight, to ensure no harm ever reached her.
But how could he be that for her? He was an instrument of death, a creature forged in the shadows of humanity. What place did he have in her light?
The answer lay not in his own musings but in the guidance of someone who truly understood.
Edward strode back into the Volturi palace, his steps purposeful, his mind singularly focused. He ignored the vampires who glanced his way, their curiosity simmering beneath their still exteriors. He sought Marcus.
It didn't take long. Marcus sat in his usual chamber, a place of stillness and observation. His pale features betrayed no surprise as Edward entered, his crimson eyes heavy with purpose.
"How could this be, Marcus?" Edward asked, his voice sharp with disbelief. "She's a child."
Marcus regarded him calmly, his ancient eyes betraying a faint glimmer of understanding. "I wondered when you would come," he said simply, gesturing for Edward to sit.
Edward remained standing, tension coiled within him. "Explain this to me. I know your gift. I've never doubted it. But this… she's so young. How can this bond be real?"
Marcus sighed softly, his expression one of infinite patience. "You feel it, Edward," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "The pull. The need to protect. It is not romantic—of course not. And it won't be for many years. But your instinct recognizes her for what she is to you: your mate. Even now, you cannot bear to let her out of your sight, can you?"
Edward clenched his fists at his sides, his mind reeling. Marcus spoke the truth, but it offered no comfort.
"You've observed, no doubt," Marcus continued, his tone measured. "Vampires often find their mates already grown because they, too, are vampires. But Isabella is not entirely like us. She is a hybrid. Her humanity remains, and she is still growing. You have simply met her earlier in her life. Perhaps," he added, his voice softening, "it is fate. Perhaps you were meant to find her now because she needs you. Have you considered that?"
Edward stared at Marcus, his mind struggling to process the notion. Fate. He had never believed in it before. The mere thought of predestined paths had always seemed foolish, yet here he stood, his every instinct screaming that he belonged at Isabella's side.
"She'll grow, Edward," Marcus said after a pause. "And when the time comes, she will know what you are to her. But for now, your role is clear. You are to protect her, guide her. Do not question it. Do not fight it. Let it unfold as it should."
Marcus's words hung in the air like a somber decree, settling heavy in Edward's chest.
"How do you reconcile it?" Edward asked quietly, his voice strained.
Marcus smiled faintly, the expression ghostly on his serene face. "By trusting what I feel. Trusting the bond. It is never wrong."
Edward nodded slowly, the weight of the truth bearing down on him. He turned and left the chamber, Marcus's words echoing in his mind.
As Edward returned to his own quarters, he passed by Isabella's room. He paused, drawn by the faint murmur of her voice through the thick doors. She was dreaming, her quiet words slurring in sleep.
Without thinking, he lingered, listening, his heart torn between wonder and uncertainty.
As Edward stood silently at Isabella's door, the soft echoes of her murmurs in sleep washed over him. Her childish voice, though fragmented by her dreams, held a purity that twisted something deep within him. Marcus's words replayed in his mind, tugging at the new weight he felt—one he didn't ask for but could not deny.
He couldn't stay here. Not now. Turning sharply, Edward made his way back toward Marcus's chambers, his stride purposeful. He didn't know exactly what he sought—answers, perhaps, or reassurance—but Marcus always seemed to have both.
When Edward entered the dimly lit chamber, Marcus was seated by the fireplace, the crackling flames casting flickering shadows on his composed face. He looked up as Edward approached, his crimson eyes thoughtful.
"I thought you might return," Marcus said softly, his voice steady.
Edward hesitated, unsure how to begin. "You spoke of trusting the bond," he said finally, his tone tense. "But what if it feels… unfair? To her. She doesn't know me—what I am. This connection isn't one she consented to."
Marcus regarded him for a long moment, then gestured for Edward to sit. Edward took the chair across from him, the warmth of the fire doing nothing to chase the cold unease in his chest.
"Your concern shows the strength of your bond," Marcus said. "And your conscience, which is not always a virtue in our kind. But I think you misunderstand this connection, Edward. It is not about imposing your will on her, nor binding her to something she cannot comprehend. It is about offering her your strength, your protection, until she is ready to choose for herself."
Edward's jaw tightened. "How do you endure it? The waiting?"
Marcus's expression softened, shadows of pain flickering in his eyes. "You endure because you must," he said simply. He shifted slightly, staring into the flames as though looking at something far beyond the present.
"When Aro was still young—new to this life—he had not yet learned the caution he preaches now. He acted without hesitation, believing we were invincible. But even then, he was cunning. He chose who to bring into this life with strategy, always thinking three steps ahead."
Edward tilted his head, sensing Marcus's tone shift, quiet but full of something deeply personal.
"It was during those early years," Marcus continued, "that I met Didyme, his sister. She was only thirteen, a spirited girl with an infectious laugh, so full of life that even I was captivated." His lips curved into a faint, sad smile. "I knew, even then, that she was my mate."
Edward blinked, caught off guard. "Thirteen?"
"Yes," Marcus said with a nod. "She was so young, so human. I could do nothing but watch her grow. I stayed close, ever her shadow, offering her safety without disrupting the natural course of her life. It was not easy, but how could I think of myself when her happiness mattered more?"
He paused, his crimson eyes shimmering with memories both sweet and bitter. "When she reached womanhood, Aro—always seeing the pieces of the larger game—knew of my bond with her. He turned her, believing that her unique gift would serve his vision."
Edward stiffened, his mind racing through what he knew of Didyme. He didn't have to ask what happened next—the end of her story was woven into Marcus's grief.
"She was everything," Marcus said, his voice distant. "And though our time together was far too short, it was enough to prove that fate doesn't err, Edward. It delivers us exactly where we must be, no matter how much we question it."
Marcus turned to Edward then, his crimson gaze steady but haunted. "You are stronger than I was. I see it in the way you carry this burden. You can protect Isabella without giving in to the despair that consumes so many of us. Do not let fear dictate your choices. You are hers, and she will realize it in time. That trust is what makes waiting bearable."
The room fell into silence, the firelight casting long shadows between them. Edward sat, absorbing Marcus's words, feeling both reassured and heavier than before.
When he finally stood to leave, Marcus spoke again, his voice quieter but no less weighted.
"Cherish the years she has as a child, Edward," he said. "Innocence fades too quickly for beings like us. Let her grow in safety and joy. She will need those memories when her choices lead her to us fully."
Edward inclined his head, the words lodging in his mind as if carved into stone. He left the chamber with a deeper understanding, Marcus's sorrow mingling with his own uncharted fears.
When Edward passed Bella's room again, he lingered only briefly, unwilling to intrude on the sweet simplicity of her dreams. She will grow, he thought, Marcus's voice echoing in his mind. And when she does, I will be there. Always.
Edward's musings.
I really don't have any idea about the backstory of Aro, Didyme and Marcus so I made one up. All I knew was that Aro and Didyme were siblings and how she died.
Short and sweet update I guess! Please leave a review.