Chapter 97: The Gathering Part Four
Diego lifted his glass, tilting it just enough to let the thick, crimson liquid swirl around its edges before taking a slow, leisurely sip. The taste percolated on his tongue—rich and sweet, though lacking the warmth and vitality of a fresh kill. It wasn't hot—the way he preferred—but it coated his throat in a slow, decadent glide, lingering just enough to satisfy. He supposed he couldn't complain.
Not when he was drinking it here.
Volterra. The name alone had once been enough to send a shiver down the spine of any vampire who lived outside its walls. It had been the seat of power for millennia, the place where judgments were passed and death was meted out. He had always assumed that if he ever stepped foot in this city, it would be in chains—dragged before a panel of red-eyed kings who would swiftly pass judgment, his execution inevitable and carried out before he even fully grasped what was happening.
And yet, fate had played its hand differently.
The Volturi were nothing more than dust now, their empire reduced to echoes, and here he was, standing in their grand ballroom—not as a prisoner, but as a guest. One of hundreds, celebrating the end of the Volturi and the crumbled dynasty they had once ruled.
Diego had seen plenty of gatherings in his time. As one of the original warlords in the Southern Vampire Wars, he had witnessed armies amassed, fledgling recruits herded together like cattle before being sent to die—but he'd never seen anything like this.
This wasn't a war camp on the dusty plains of Mexico. It wasn't a battlefield strewn with bodies. This was decadence made manifest.
Gold-leafed arches stretched high above, their glittering chandeliers casting fractured beams of light that danced across polished marble floors—floors that had borne the weight of centuries of power. Heavy velvet draperies lined the towering windows, their folds pooling like spilled wine, muting whatever light might've attempted to breach the Volturi's domain. The deep crimson shadows they cast made it seem as though the very walls still bled with the memories of the coven that had once reigned here.
Even without all this grandeur, Diego understood what it meant to lose everything. Just like the Volturi, he had watched his own empire collapse.
At its peak in the early 1800s, his army had stood fifty-one strong—one of the largest forces in all of Mexico. But in a single battle, he had lost everything. His soldiers slaughtered, his power erased, his body maimed. He had fled with nothing but the clothes on his back—and the only thing that truly mattered. He had survived."
Forced into hiding, he fled the blood-soaked lands of his birth, staying away for nearly half a century. First, he rebuilt his body. Then, his standing. Only once he was back on his feet did he begin the work anew, reconstructing his army—until, at last, he had clawed his way back to where he once stood.
And now, he was here.
Sipping blood from a gilded goblet, standing in the very halls where execution orders had once been signed with the same casual ease as one might approve a dinner menu.
Funny how the world worked sometimes.
Diego swirled the blood in his glass absently, his eyes scanning the grand ballroom with a mix of curiosity and cautious vigilance. When he'd first heard of the gathering, his instincts had warned him away. The rumor mill had started slow, but as the weeks passed, it grew until all anyone could talk about was the Volturi's supposed demise. Then came the talk of the gathering, gaining momentum until it was impossible to ignore.
He hadn't planned to attend. Caution had served him well over the centuries, and the possibility of a trap had been at the forefront of his mind. Yet the lure had been irresistible. To stand here, in Volterra itself, walking freely through the Volturi's halls, was too tempting to resist. So he'd waited. And when the gathering had officially begun, he listened. He heard from others whose word carried weight. When those voices confirmed that the Volturi truly were nothing but ash, he knew he couldn't miss this chance. He only wished he still had the ability—and if anyone could point him to Aro's charred remains, he would have gladly pissed on them.
Scanning the crowded ballroom now, he took note of the faces surrounding him—some familiar, others new. Hundreds had gathered here tonight, mingling freely. An optimism had settled over the entire room, and even he couldn't help but feel it. Being constantly surrounded by blood and warfare, it felt foreign to see so many smiling faces.
Still, he remained cautious. He wasn't foolish enough to pretend he had no enemies; his long life and ambitious choices had ensured that he'd earned more than a few. But as his gaze traveled methodically through the crowd, he felt a measure of relief. He spotted only a handful of vampires he'd crossed swords with, and none that seemed eager to reignite old feuds.
He allowed himself to relax slightly, savoring another sip from the goblet as he admired the lavish splendor of the hall around him. Music drifted through the air, soft and unobtrusive, yet hauntingly beautiful. And he found it all immensely satisfying—the perfect backdrop for the Volturi's final humiliation, an extravagant tombstone for an empire that had believed itself untouchable.
Taking another slow sip, Diego's gaze drifted to the grand stage set at the far end of the ballroom, curiosity prickling at the back of his mind as he wondered what spectacle awaited them. When he'd first arrived in Volterra, the woman who'd shown him to his quarters had practically sparkled with enthusiasm, insisting that whatever was planned was not to be missed. Her vivacious laughter and the teasing tilt of her head had ignited something familiar in him—something impossible to ignore.
Diego had always been a ladies' man, instinctively attuned to beauty, charm, and the electric pull of attraction. Standing in that corridor, he'd felt a sudden, intense surge of desire—stronger than usual. Naturally, he'd shown his interest, effortlessly weaving his charm into their conversation. She'd smiled warmly, clearly amused and even pleased by his flirtation. But when he'd leaned in, testing the waters, she had laughed, warm but firm, before turning him down. Taken, she had said.
A shame.
Now, from across the crowded room, he caught sight of her again, standing confidently beside another vampire, her arm curled possessively around her mate's. Diego released a quiet sigh, the corners of his mouth tugging upward ruefully. Just by looking at her, he could tell she'd be absolutely insatiable between the sheets. Her mate was, without a doubt, one lucky bastard.
Tilting his head back, Diego drained the last drops of blood from his cup, savoring the sweetness that lingered on his tongue. As he turned to get a refill, someone behind him cleared their throat pointedly, drawing his attention.
"Diego, ya treacherous dog! You're still alive? I thought for sure someone woulda finished ya off by now, and knowin' ya, it'd be for somethin' stupid like bedding another vampire's woman."
The voice stilled Diego, freezing him mid-step. But recognition sparked almost immediately at the familiar cadence and playful mockery beneath the sharp words. A slow grin spread across his face even before he turned, his gaze gleaming appreciatively as he confirmed who stood confidently behind him.
"Lisette," he drawled, lingering over her name with obvious delight. Nearly three centuries had passed, yet she remained just as captivating as ever. Her blood-red eyes danced with humor, her posture proud and relaxed—every inch the bold, fearless captain who'd once commanded the seas aboard her ship, the Crimson Fang. Rising from the chains of slavery in her mortal life, she'd carved out a fierce reputation as a renowned trader, ferrying precious goods—and occasionally indulging her vampire crew on passing ships—from one continent to another.
"Been a long time indeed." Diego's gaze roamed over her, openly admiring her form. "And might I say, ya look absolutely mouthwatering."
Huffing softly, Lisette's lips curled into a smirk, amusement flickering across her face. "I go by Lizzy now. If ya can believe it, I went legit centuries ago." Her gaze traveled openly over him, slowly appraising him before she gestured toward his face with a playful flick of her finger. "What happened to ya eye?"
Diego shrugged casually, completely unfazed by her scrutiny. "Being a man like me isn't without risk. It's never bothered me—and the ladies definitely don't complain."
Lisette laughed, rich and full, her grin turning wicked. "No, I reckon they wouldn't—not if they got a taste of what ya got hidin' in them trousers. That was always a fine bonus whenever we did business. I'll admit, I missed our… negotiations after I took my trade to the Indies."
A smile widened across his face as vivid memories flickered through Diego's mind. Given how he'd felt since arriving, rekindling their particular brand of friendship seemed increasingly appealing. He distinctly recalled their last encounter—Lisette had surprised him by bringing along a human woman to spice things up. Their little trio had ended spectacularly, leaving him and Lisette deeply satisfied, with their human guest providing both entertainment and refreshment.
"So, how's Mexico these days? Still da same damn mess?" Lisette tilted her head slightly, eyeing him with that familiar, knowing mischief. "Never did see why Aro let all that madness carry on as long as he did."
"The fighting has eased up a bit over the past decade," Diego admitted, his voice dropping lower as he leaned in, subtly breathing in the enticing scent at Lisette's neck—better than he remembered. "Most have been quietly rebuilding their armies, but recently there've been some… unusual developments." His tone turned serious. "Before I left, I sent scouts to check on Hector's territory. They came back sayin' he and his whole army had vanished—no trace, no explanation. Just gone. My men claimed it looked like one hell of a fight had occurred, but I can't say I know anyone with the manpower to pull that off... 'cept me, of course. Figured maybe Hector had just up and moved his operation somewhere quieter—but a few months earlier, Carlo disappeared the same damn way."
Lisette took it all in, eyes thoughtful. "Maybe it's a sign ya oughta get out while ya still can," she murmured, leaning in, her voice dipping into a conspiratorial whisper. "Whatever's stirrin' on the Blood Coast, best watch your step. Depending on who comes out on top here, ya might find the game's changed for good. And from what I seen this past week, this lot carries themselves different—more respectable, less likely to be bought. That makes 'em a hell of a lot more dangerous than the Volturi ever were… 'specially for men like you."
Diego scowled, suspecting Lisette was probably right. He doubted he'd been the only warlord feeding Aro tribute and intelligence over the centuries to maintain favor and stay alive. Shaking off the uneasy thought, he was just about to suggest they continue their reunion somewhere more private—his room, perhaps, since there was still plenty of time before the night's events got underway—when the massive doors at the far end of the ballroom swung open, immediately capturing his attention.
Six vampires entered, moving side by side, exuding confidence. Diego began to turn back toward Lisette, disinterested, until suddenly his body froze, muscles tightening in instinctive apprehension. Among the group, walking casually on the far right, was a man with sandy blond hair, a presence he knew instantly, even after all these years.
God no.
It was the Major. The vampire who had cost him everything.
A sudden, vivid memory rushed over him unbidden, dragging him violently back to that rainy night over a century ago.
The night screamed around him, wind howling like a beast unleashed, rain hammering the earth in relentless sheets, washing the battlefield in silver fury. Diego stood still, eyes wide, disbelief carved into every line of his face as chaos unfolded before him. His forces had stormed onto the field confident, superior in number—his newborns nearly doubling Maria's army—but that confidence was eroding, chipped away with every drop of rain, every dying scream lost to the storm.
At the heart of the maelstrom stood the Major, moving like a specter conjured from the blackest nightmares. He was a blur of savage ferocity, his form slicing through the storm with impossible speed and terrifying precision. Every fluid strike carved through flesh and bone—limbs torn, heads severed, screams swallowed by the wind. Diego's newborns—his prized, battle-hardened warriors—collapsed like brittle dolls beneath the Major's relentless fury.
Diego's orders barely carried over the wind's deafening howl, his voice firm despite the chaos. He barked commands, trying to rally his forces, but the battlefield had already turned against him. Through the storm, the Major carved a ruthless path forward, his venom-soaked form gleaming in the lightning's flicker. His eyes blazed with an unholy fire—locked onto him like a predator closing in on its prey.
Instinct took over, driving Diego into motion, his body twisting to meet the inevitable clash. But within seconds, he knew he was hopelessly outmatched. The Major moved without hesitation, without mercy, a creature possessed by violence, driven by the sole desire to destroy.
Diego saw it then—the moment crystallized with brutal clarity. The Major leaped high above him, rain and lightning illuminating him against the storm-dark sky. Time stretched, each fraction of a second dragging into a horrifying eternity as he watched the Major descend, eyes blazing, lips drawn back in a savage snarl, fingers curled into claws.
Agony struck before the blow even landed, a phantom scream of impending devastation. And then, with one terrifying swipe, the Major's hand crashed down, fingers tearing effortlessly through his flesh. The world exploding in blinding, searing pain as his vision ruptured, obliterated forever in a single, merciless strike.
Through that agony, Diego knew he had seen the face of the devil himself—inhuman, monstrous, ferocious. A vision seared into his memory, burned forever into the darkness where his eye had once been.
Death had been certain that night—an inevitability Diego had escaped only because his remaining newborns had intervened, distracting the Major just long enough to give him an opening. He'd taken it without hesitation, leaving his army to be annihilated by the vampire who now stood mere yards away.
His gaze flicked quickly across the group accompanying the Major, scanning for additional threats, but he didn't recognize any of them.
"Diego, what's wrong? Ya look like ya just seen death itself," Lisette murmured, her voice edged with concern.
He blinked, the sound of her voice pulling him sharply back to the present, breaking the hold the Major's sudden reappearance had cast over him. After that catastrophic night, he'd fled Mexico entirely, only returning to reclaim his position once it was confirmed the Major was gone. Whether dead or simply vanished, no one at the time seemed to know—and that puta Maria sure as hell wasn't talking.
Finding his voice, it came out as a whispering rasp, disbelief lacing every syllable.
"The Major… he's here?"
Turning, Lisette studied the group of vampires as they paused to converse with others, her eyes sharp with curiosity.
"Ah, the infamous Major," she murmured, amusement curling her lips. "Even across the sea, I heard the legends—whispers of a ghost in the night, the pale rider, the devil himself walkin' on two legs. Always figured they were just stories, the kinda thing young vampires spin when the blood start flowin'."
Her gaze slid back to Diego, lingering on the black eyepatch covering the worst of the scarring. "Ah… so it was him, then?" She tilted her head, nodding toward his eye, watching as he gave an almost imperceptible nod.
"Well, count yaself lucky." She exhaled, shaking her head, her tone edged with something between admiration and warning. "I watched him fight in da arena the other night, and let me tell ya—his legend didn't do the man justice."
Her gaze drifted over the vampires accompanying him before she spoke. "He brought his whole coven with him—quite the power play, if ya ask me. They've been the talk of the gathering so far—or, more rightly, the woman in the center has. Ain't had the pleasure of speakin' to any of 'em yet, though…"
A mischievous smile played on her lips as her eyes settled on the striking woman at the heart of the group. "Wouldn't mind givin' her my thanks up close. Take a good look at that ass… Damn shame she's already spoken for."
Diego, pulled from his uneasy thoughts, took a closer look at the Major's companions. Beside him stood a tiny female vampire—delicate in appearance, and not at all what he'd expected for the Major's mate. At the far end were two vampires, both radiating battle-readiness, and like the Major, the man bore the scars of countless battles—the kind only a hard-won life could carve into flesh. His gaze barely lingered on the pretty boy standing near the center—he was soft, looking far more suited for this ballroom than a battlefield.
Yet it was the woman Lisette had singled out who captured his attention most. She stood poised, exuding confidence. No scars marked her, but he knew a fellow predator when he saw one. And there was no mistaking it—she belonged among the Major's coven.
Lisette's remark stirred his curiosity. "Who is she? I don't recognize her."
She leaned in, fingers resting lightly on his arm, her touch as casual as her tone was knowing. "That right there, my friend? That be Starshield herself—the one who made all this possible. Word is, she took down the Volturi all by her lonesome."
Diego's head snapped sharply toward Lisette, disbelief clear in his expression. Seeing no trace of jest in her eyes, he turned his attention back to the vampire in question, studying her intently. "Her? How's that even possible? I mean, I saw what she did on the news, but takin' down the Volturi alone… I can't even begin to imagine the kind of power that would take."
Lisette's eyes gleamed, excitement flickering behind them as she leaned in, her voice rich with awe and something damn close to admiration. "Few nights back, I seen her fight—most spectacular thing I ever laid eyes on. Made what she did in front of the humans look like nothin' but parlor tricks. She went head-to-head with the Major himself, Diego. And truth be told? She might've taken 'im down if she hadn't been called away all sudden-like." She gave a slow shake of her head, her tone slipping into something close to reverence. "I seen plenty of fine fights in my time, but Starshield against the Major? That was somethin' else."
Diego was just about to press Lisette further about the fight when, as if sensing his scrutiny, the Major's head lifted abruptly, his sharp gaze cutting straight to him. Diego's breath hitched—had the Major overheard them? The ballroom was crowded, filled with the murmur of countless voices, and he'd assumed their conversation was private enough.
For an agonizing second, his single remaining eye locked onto the man who had robbed him of the other. A cold dread surged through his veins as he watched the Major speak quietly to his group. Whatever he said, it was enough. Almost in unison, they turned—Starshield included—fixing their stares directly on him.
Diego wrenched his gaze away, forcing his breathing to steady as a deep, primal unease coiled tight in his chest. If he didn't know better, he'd swear he was on the verge of a panic attack—a ridiculous notion for someone like him. But maybe coming to Volterra hadn't been such a wise decision after all.
Desperate for a distraction—and comfort—he turned back to Lisette, hoping she'd still be interested in the intimate reunion he'd originally intended to propose before the Major's untimely presence had derailed him. He let a smirk slide back into place, forcing some of his tension to ease. "Ya know this thing ain't startin' for another couple hours," his voice dipped lower, smooth and coaxing. "Wanna slip away? We could pick up where we left off last time."
Lisette's playful smile curled wider, the heat in her eyes answering before she even spoke. "Lead the way," she purred, looping her arm comfortably through his.
Knowing exactly what was best for him, Diego guided Lisette carefully along the edges of the ballroom, deliberately keeping as much distance as possible between himself and the Major. No reason to tempt fate a second time.
Jasper's gaze tracked Diego as the vampire slipped from the ballroom, his female companion in tow. His eyes never wavered, but it was his ability that truly examined the departing warlord, absorbing every flicker of emotion that bled from him. The sudden reappearance of someone from his violent past set his instincts humming—not with fear, but with sharp-edged readiness. It didn't happen often. He and Alice had built their lives far from the ghosts of his past, but vigilance had never abandoned him. He never took chances. Not when it came to Alice. Any hint of a threat, any feeling of malice directed their way, was dealt with swiftly and quietly. He never spoke of these things, and Alice never asked. Whether her visions had ever glimpsed the lengths he'd go to keep their peace, he couldn't say.
Seeing Diego again stirred echoes of a past he preferred to keep buried—memories of the man he had once been. But tonight, he felt only relief. Fear radiated from Diego, raw and untempered, but there was no anger, no simmering desire for vengeance. Retribution wasn't on his mind. That was enough. Jasper resolved to let him live.
Turning his full attention back to Alice, Jasper felt the last traces of tension melt away, replaced by warmth and gratitude. Without a word, he pulled her into his arms, holding her close, savoring the quiet reassurance of her presence. She looked up at him, eyes bright with gentle curiosity, prompting him to lift her effortlessly, closing the space between them with a slow, lingering kiss.
When he finally set her back down, Alice tilted her head playfully, her smile radiant. "And what was that for?"
Jasper's own smile softened, genuine and deep. "Nothin', darlin'. Just grateful I found you all those years ago."
Alice's grin widened, lighting up her face, playful yet deeply sincere. "Well, same here, cowboy."
The grand ballroom pulsed with quiet anticipation, the air charged with lively conversation. Hundreds of vampires filled the space, and Bella stood in the middle of it all, her sharp eyes sweeping over the gathered immortals, taking in the sight of history unfolding.
For years after becoming a vampire, she had wondered—was she alone? Were there others like her out there? Now, surrounded by hundreds of her kind, she stood at the threshold of something new. Together, they were on the verge of forging a future where the rules had yet to be written.
Tomorrow, everything would change.
For the past five days, discussions had stretched endlessly into both day and night—small gatherings designed to ensure every voice was heard, every idea considered, and every proposal argued and refined before the final votes. And tomorrow was the moment of truth. The day the new laws would be set, and more importantly, the ruling council chosen.
Before the votes were cast, there would be the speeches. Anyone with ambitions for a seat on the council—or those wishing to nominate another—would step forward and present their vision, making their case before the assembled gathering.
Bella intended to stand before her peers as well, but not to try and claim power. Quite the opposite.
It had been a constant refrain over the past few days—whispers trailing after her, or sometimes spoken outright. Many still equated strength with leadership, as if raw power alone made one fit to rule. It was flattering, in a way, but also deeply frustrating. She had no desire to sit on a throne, to be weighed down by the endless politics of governing an entire species. The very thought was exhausting—which, considering she was a vampire, said everything.
No, she and Edward had already decided—once this was over, they were heading back to Peter and Char's for some much-needed R&R, slipping away from the weight of expectation to simply exist for a while.
Her lips curved faintly as her thoughts drifted to her alter ego. For the past few months, living not just as Bella Swan but also as Starshield had ignited something deep within her—a feeling of completeness. Every time she donned the mask, a thrill coursed through her, a quiet joy in knowing she was making a real difference. Helping others just felt right. And looking back, she could see it now—every step she'd taken as a vampire had been slowly leading her to this point.
"Here you go." Edward's smooth voice drew Bella's attention, and she turned to see him approaching with two glasses filled with blood. She accepted hers with a grateful smile, gently clinking glasses with his in a quiet toast before they both took long, satisfying sips.
Bella let her gaze linger fondly on him, warmth spreading through her as she reflected on their time in the castle. Aside from that brief encounter with Garrett and Maggie—which she was trying her damnedest not to think about—their days and nights here had been truly wonderful.
Finishing the last drop, she glanced toward the main stage. The atmosphere in the ballroom had started to shift as chairs began appearing, arranged at vampire speed to face the stage—a clear sign that the event was nearing its official start. She stepped toward the nearest table to set down her empty glass when something caught her eye.
A small group of six vampires stood clustered off to the side of the hall, engaged in quiet conversation. At first, nothing seemed particularly noteworthy—until her gaze landed on the woman at the center. Though she couldn't clearly see her face from this angle, the distinct style of her jet-black hair, twisted elegantly into a high, coiled bun, sent a ripple of recognition through her.
Intrigued, she signaled Edward to join her as she moved closer.
As they approached, recognition sharpened into certainty. It was Huǒlóng—the ancient vampire she'd encountered during her travels in China. A delighted smile spread across Bella's face. Of all the vampires she'd met so far, Huǒlóng had been one of the most fascinating, and the thought of speaking with her again—and introducing her to Edward—filled her with happiness.
Five vampires stood protectively around Huǒlóng, and Bella immediately recognized three from her visit to the ancient vampire's mountain compound. Approaching quietly, she paused respectfully, waiting for one of Huǒlóng's bodyguards to acknowledge her presence. The nearest guard glanced at Bella, nodded once, and murmured something inaudible to his mistress before stepping back slightly.
Huǒlóng turned gracefully, her movements as fluid and poised as ever. Bella offered the fist-and-palm greeting Yoshi had carefully taught her, bowing her head in deference. When she looked up, Huǒlóng's deep crimson eyes regarded her with quiet warmth.
"Bella Swan," Huǒlóng greeted, her voice rich and measured. "I had hoped our paths might cross again."
Bella smiled genuinely, motioning for Edward to join her. "As had I. Allow me to introduce my boyfriend, Edward Masen."
Edward stepped forward, his posture respectful yet at ease, inclining his head slightly. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Bella has spoken highly of you. Meeting you left quite an impression on her."
Huǒlóng's mouth curved gently upward. "Edward, it is a pleasure." Her gaze returned thoughtfully to Bella. "You have certainly made an impact since we last met. I must admit, I was surprised to learn it was you who instigated the Volturi's fall." A rare glimmer of amusement flickered in her expression. "When we exchanged our stories, I must have become distracted, as I do not recall you mentioning the rather significant detail that you can fly."
Bella gave a slight shrug, offering a playful, self-deprecating grin. "Yes, well, after learning of the Volturi, I thought it wise to keep my true abilities under wraps—and myself off their radar. But given where we're both standing…" She gestured broadly at the crowded hall. "I clearly failed at remaining unnoticed."
A knowing glint passed through Huǒlóng's ancient eyes. "Sometimes, destiny forces our hand, no matter how carefully we hide. You made the choice you had to make."
Bella nodded. "I did. And I have no regrets." Her expression hardened slightly. "I gave Aro a choice too. He just chose poorly."
Huǒlóng tilted her head slightly, contemplative. "Indeed. Thousands of years ago, I met Aro myself—only once, but it was enough to understand the man. He was not one to back down if he believed he held the advantage. But to see his empire fall so completely…" She exhaled softly, her smile returning—gentle, yet with an edge of intrigue. "That, I never expected." Her gaze lingered on Bella. "It seems the vampire world owes you its thanks."
Bella let out a slow breath. "I did what I had to do. Still, I'm glad to see you here."
Huǒlóng inclined her head graciously. "As am I, you." Her gaze swept across the gathered vampires before returning to Bella. "We stand at a crossroads in history, and I find myself deeply curious to see what comes next."
Bella hadn't anticipated Huǒlóng's presence at the gathering; Yoshi had implied that the ancient vampire rarely ventured beyond her carefully guarded borders. Her being here—flanked by vampires Bella assumed were all quite powerful—made her wonder what exactly had drawn Huǒlóng from isolation.
"I have to admit, I didn't expect to see you here," Bella began carefully. "Yoshi made it sound like you preferred to keep to yourself."
Huǒlóng's smile was polite but distant, a flicker of something sharper and colder briefly visible behind her crimson gaze. "I do usually prefer solitude. My place is, as it has always been, in China. But this…" she gestured gracefully around the bustling hall, "this required my direct involvement. My associates and I have come to ensure the newly formed council fully understands the terms under which we coexisted with the Volturi. Our borders will remain respected—and ideally, your next leaders will perform their duties far more effectively than their predecessors."
Though Huǒlóng's voice remained mild and serene, there was a quiet threat beneath her words—an implicit promise of retribution should those terms be violated. Bella had no trouble imagining exactly what kind of consequences would follow if someone tested the ancient leader's patience. Huǒlóng's crimson eyes had hardened only slightly as she spoke, but it was enough, allowing Bella to glimpse the reason Huǒlóng had held power for over four millennia.
She nodded in understanding. Just another reason why she had no interest in leadership—who needed headaches like this right off the bat? They had better elect vampires who could think beyond their own egos, and not some hothead.
Her attention shifted as another thought occurred to her. "Have you heard from Yoshitaka?"
She hesitated, realizing Huǒlóng might not even know what had befallen him. "You... do know what happened to him, don't you?"
The ancient vampire's expression softened, her lips curving into a small but genuine smile. "Yes. Yoshitaka stopped by my compound on his way home. He told me of his capture, his rescue at your hands, and the Volturi's rather spectacular fall."
Huǒlóng's crimson eyes warmed with gratitude. "Thank you, Bella Swan, for intervening on behalf of my zhījǐ."
Bella nodded warmly, relieved to hear Yoshi had made it back to Japan safely. "That's good news. I really owe him a huge thanks—it was because of him that I ultimately found Edward. He was imprisoned too, and for far longer than Yoshi. If I hadn't gone down to the dungeon that night, I doubt Edward and I would have ever crossed paths."
Edward's fingers intertwined with hers, his grip warm and steady, grounding her with the simplest touch. She smiled, giving his hand a gentle squeeze in return.
Huǒlóng inclined her head slightly, amusement and approval glinting in her crimson eyes. "I'm pleased to hear such good came from such dark events. I'll pass along your gratitude the next time I see Yoshitaka—though given your recent exploits, you may well reach Japan before I do." A knowing gleam flickered across her gaze. "The news in China echoes that of the rest of the world—humans cannot seem to get enough of Starshield. In my long life, I have witnessed wonders beyond count, but the day I watched you soar through the sky, I knew the world had changed forever."
Before Bella could respond, a bell chimed, cutting through the steady hum of voices. The attendees quieted, their attention shifting toward the main stage where Garrett stood, adjusting an old-fashioned microphone.
"If everyone could please find a seat, the festivities are about to begin."
Bella glanced briefly at Edward before returning her attention to Huǒlóng, who was quietly instructing one of her attendants to reserve their seats. When she turned back, an enigmatic smile played on her lips as she gracefully clasped her hands together.
"Well, Bella Swan, I hope we have the chance to speak again before this gathering concludes. If not, I wish you luck in all your future endeavors. Should you and Edward ever find yourselves in China, please don't hesitate to visit. Our influence runs deep, and I'd be pleased to have one of my associates show you both some of our more impressive operations."
Bella bowed respectfully. "Thank you. I'm sure Edward and I will visit your beautiful country someday, and when we do, we'd be honored to see you again. Until then."
Huǒlóng's lips curved in a faint, knowing smile. "Safe travels, Bella Swan."
As they turned to find some seats, Bella spotted Garrett making his way toward them. Unlike the last time she'd seen him, the unease that had lingered over him was gone. Now, he looked like his old roguish self—grinning, confident, and carrying an air of mischief that immediately put her on alert.
"Bella, Edward—why don't you two come up front? I've got some seats reserved for you." His smile was easy, but there was something behind it, something knowing.
Bella narrowed her eyes slightly. "Why do I feel like you're up to something?"
Garrett's expression shifted to one of exaggerated innocence, but the smirk never left his lips. Without answering, he simply gestured for them to follow, his amusement unmistakable.
She exchanged a glance with Edward, who seemed just as curious. With a small shrug, they followed Garrett toward the front. As they reached the first row, her lips parted in pleasant surprise—her mom and Jean Paul were already seated, as if expecting them, and on the other side, Peter and Char lounged comfortably, their expressions unreadable.
Bella quickly took the seat beside her mom, leaning in slightly. "Hey, Mom. Any idea what this is all about?"
Her mom shook her head. "Not a clue," she murmured before glancing questioningly toward Jean Paul. "How about you, honey?"
Jean Paul gave a noncommittal shrug, but the glint in his eye betrayed him—he definitely knew something. Before Bella could press him, movement on the stage caught her attention. Garrett had hopped back up and was about to speak.
"Alright, everyone," Garrett's voice boomed through the microphone, effortlessly cutting through the last lingering conversations. He held out his hands, signaling for quiet. "Find your seats, settle in—we're about to get started. And trust me, you're not gonna want to miss this."
Behind him, a few vampires moved swiftly, setting up what looked like an enormous screen. Bella frowned slightly—were they about to watch a movie?
Garrett let the crowd murmur for a moment, clearly enjoying himself. "Now, ever since this gathering started, the other organizers and I have been asked the same question about a million different ways. 'Are the Volturi really gone?' 'How did it happen?' 'Are the rumors true?'" He scanned the room, letting the anticipation build. "Well, tonight, you'll all get to see for yourselves."
Silence fell instantly across the ballroom.
Bella stiffened slightly in her chair, her mind racing. See for themselves?
Garrett's grin widened at the reaction, reveling in the suspense. "When I first arrived in Volterra, Maggie of the Irish coven was kind enough to inform me of an interesting little discovery. Turns out, Aro had an entire room dedicated to recording everything that happened within the castle." He let that sink in, smirking at the murmurs that rippled through the room. "I know, I know. You'd think stealing everyone's thoughts would be enough for him, right? But no—despite his disdain for technology, it seems he wasn't above using it when it suited his own ends."
"Derek, c'mon up here," Garrett called, motioning to a vampire Bella hadn't met before. The newcomer moved swiftly, jumping onto the stage to stand beside him. Garrett clapped a hand on his shoulder. "This is Derek, an old friend of mine and a damn wizard with computers. Lucky for us, he also happens to have experience as a film editor. He's spent the past day tirelessly reviewing and cutting together footage from the night the Volturi fell—and now, he's got a special presentation just for us."
The murmurs grew louder, excitement building palpably throughout the hall. Bella felt Edward's hand gently squeeze hers, and when she turned, she caught the wide-eyed anticipation in his expression. She understood how he—and everyone else—felt. But she couldn't help but wonder how her actions would come across on video. In her mind, she had carried herself well. But would reality match her memories?
Garrett's smile broadened as he spread his arms, his voice rising with enthusiasm. "Tonight, my friends, we will finally see the truth. It's time to witness history together. So sit back, relax, and enjoy what I've dubbed—'The Fall of the House of Volturi.'"
As the lights dimmed, a wave of cheers erupted across the ballroom, applause breaking out in spontaneous bursts as vampires leaned forward in their seats, every gaze locked intently on the massive screen, waiting breathlessly for the video to begin.
Well, well, well. This should be interesting.
A lot of you wondered if Aro might have recorded everything… and, surprise—he did. Next week, we'll find out if Bella's memories truly align with what happened. But don't worry, it won't just be a rehash of past events.
I hope you enjoyed getting to meet Diego and Lisette. Comments are appreciated—I really enjoy reading what you guys have to say.