Marcus' POV

The corridors of Volterra were quiet at this hour, the deep stillness broken only by the distant hum of ancient stone settling and the faintest whispers of voices from rooms far below. I walked with purpose, my thoughts centered around Bella, always Bella—even as I prepared to confront my brothers.

When I reached Aro's office, I paused only a second before entering. His voice filtered through the thick, supposedly soundproofed doors—though, of course, it was no match for our kind.

"Ascertain that your pet friends understand that if they even sniff their way, it will mean not only their end but their whole tribe's as well, Carlisle," Aro was saying, his tone crisp and commanding.

I raised a curious eyebrow, to which my brother lifted a finger, indicating I should wait.

I walked silently toward him, standing by the fire until the conversation ended.

"I understand, Aro. It will be as you requested," Carlisle's voice replied evenly.

"This is not a request, Carlisle. We have conceded much because of our affection for you, but this is non-negotiable. If they stray even once, Caius will be the one to answer—and you know how… thorough he is when enforcing justice."

"You have my word. Bella is family to us. And Marcus, now that he is her mate… all the more so. We will protect her with everything we have. You know this."

Aro was quiet for a breath, then nodded. "Very well. Felix will accompany them. With him, you are a guard of seven—a symbol as much as a strength. It should be enough."

"It is more than enough. Thank you, Aro."

"You may speak to your son when he chooses to repent. A week, perhaps. Or longer."

"Understood."

Their conversation concluded with quiet goodbyes, and Aro placed the receiver back in its cradle with a click.

"I did not expect you without your mate so soon."

"She needed rest."

He turned then, arching an amused brow. "Ah yes. Humans." His smile curved, teasing.

"Indeed. She is… more fragile than I'd like, but strong where it counts." I moved further into the room. "I wanted to thank you. For your care in the arrangements."

"You do not need to thank me, brother." Aro's tone softened, his expression briefly shedding its usual veneer. "She has brought something back to you that we feared long lost. Your presence today—your calm, your light—we haven't seen that in centuries. I do not know if you realize how profoundly she has changed you already."

"I do," I said quietly, placing a hand over his briefly in gratitude.

He flinched—just barely—as he caught a glimpse of the depth of my thoughts.

The sorrow in his face mirrored my own. "I mourned Didyme for centuries… and I still do. But seeing you now, whole again, is one of the only things that eases the ache."

That admission, from Aro, was more than most would ever receive. It humbled me.

"Did you finalize the preparations?"

Aro nodded. "Seleucia and Tyron will take residence in Seattle, discreetly embedded in the human world. Louis has been recalled from Louisiana—he will remain in Washington for the length of your stay. All three report to you first, and Carlisle second. Felix will accompany you to Forks directly, remaining within the Cullen household to better ensure your and Bella's safety. You'll hunt as needed, but away from the territory."

It was all precise, well-considered—as I expected. Aro was many things, but careless? Never.

"Thank you," I said again, and this time, the words felt too small.

"Protect her well. And let her see the real you—the one we knew before time carved away at you."

I offered a genuine smile. "I intend to."

As I turned to leave, Aro called softly after me. "Savour her, brother."

I didn't need to look back to know the multiple meanings behind the words. I only laughed quietly and vanished into the corridor.

Bella's POV

I woke in the velvet stillness of dawn, cocooned in warmth that didn't feel like mine. My senses reached out before my mind caught up—the scent of marble and sun-drenched parchment, the arms that held me so carefully, so reverently.

Marcus.

I barely moved, not wanting to disturb him even though I knew he could not be asleep. There was a softness to the way he held me that made me feel like the most precious thing in existence.

And yet…

A thread of guilt tugged at me. Edward. My past.

I had meant every word I said to Alice. I understood why they left. But that didn't make the ache vanish. Still, the grief now lived in the shadow of something new—something stronger. Love. Real, soul-defining, irrefutable love.

"You're thinking too loudly," Marcus murmured against my temple.

I turned in his arms to face him. "Sorry."

"Don't be. I wish to know every thought that crosses your mind—no matter how painful."

I traced my fingers over the lines of his jaw, still unable to believe he was real. "You're going to hear a lot of nonsense then."

He smiled—really smiled, and my breath caught. "If it's yours, it will never be nonsense."

I pressed my forehead against his. "I'm scared," I whispered.

"Of what?"

"Everything. Of how fast this has all changed. Of what's coming. Of leaving Charlie. Of what being with you will mean for… the rest of my life."

He pulled me tighter. "I will not ask you to rush. We have time, as much as you need. You are mine, but I am yours first. I will follow your pace, Isabella."

The way he said my name—full, formal, ancient—sent shivers down my spine.

"And… Alice?" I asked. "Do you think she'll be okay with all of this? With… me being here? With you?"

"I believe she has already accepted it. The bond you two share—it is strong. She will fight for you, even when others do not."

I nodded slowly. "I want to talk to Edward. When he's… allowed to talk."

That earned a faint frown. "If that is what you wish."

"I just need… closure," I admitted. "Not because I want him back, but because I want to end it properly. I want to be free."

"You already are," Marcus said. "But I will give you every moment you ask for. You deserve to choose your path, Bella."

I reached for his hand and laced our fingers. "I already chose, Marcus. I just need to say it out loud."

He brought our joined hands to his lips and kissed the back of mine, eyes glowing faintly in the dawn light. "Then we will return to Forks. Say your farewells. Finish your education. And once you are ready—truly ready—you will walk into forever, and I will walk beside you. But for now, sleep, I can sense your weariness still."

I nodded and indeed felt myself drifting into sleep once more.

I woke again, this time to the sun shining brightly and still feeling that peculiar mix of exhaustion and peace, like my soul had finally exhaled. The soft crackle of the fireplace filled the silence, accompanied by the faint scent of smoke and something floral—lavender maybe. Not home, I realized, though the warmth wrapping around me felt like a gentle echo of it.

No, I was in Volterra. In his quarters.

My heartbeat fluttered, not from fear, but from the weight of everything that had happened. The rush to Italy. Leaving Jacob. The cryptic note I'd left Charlie, barely enough to explain anything.

Charlie… oh my god, he was going to kill me.

I chuckled under my breath, imagining his face. Grounded until I turned a hundred, easy. But then my stomach twisted painfully, the reality sinking in. Four months. That's all I had left with him… and Mom. Four human months before my life diverged permanently.

The ache was sharp, brutal. I rubbed my arms, grounding myself.

I swung my legs off the edge of the bed I had somehow ended up in, and padded to the open porte-finestre that led onto the wide balcony. A cool breeze kissed my skin as I stepped outside. Below, Volterra was bursting with life, the city glowing, merging into endless fields and hills beneath a warm, watchful sun.

I let my thoughts wander, clinging to details—the color of the rooftops, the curves of alleyways—to stop myself from spiraling. Charlie and Renée had their lives. They loved me, of course they did, but I'd always been the steady one. The careful one. Now I had to be brave enough not to drag them into this world. A world of marble skin and ancient power.

They couldn't know. They couldn't follow me here.

A soft footfall behind me made my breath catch. I didn't need to turn to know who it was.

"Amore mio," Marcus said softly, stepping beside me. "Non riuscivi a dormire?"
[My love… you couldn't sleep?]

I chuckled lightly. "I have slept more than normal," I informed him, leaning into his open side.

"The last day has been... intense," he said with a wry smile.

"Just a bit," I laughed quietly. "I ran out on my best friend, flew halfway across the world, faced death, and found my soulmate."

"Il destino è veloce." [Fate moves fast.]

I looked at him then, unable to keep the fondness from my face. A wave of self-consciousness suddenly came over me. "Do you have a bathroom?"

His brow furrowed slightly before understanding dawned. "Ah, of course. Scusami, amore. Through that door—towels and soap are there. I will have clothes brought to you." [Forgive me, my love.]

I opened my mouth to protest but… yeah, I really needed a change. "Actually… that would be amazing. Thank you."

He touched my cheek with reverent fingers. "You never have to thank me, Isabella. You are mia anima." [My soul.]

And just like that, he was gone again, soundless as ever.

Get a grip, I scolded myself, cheeks flushed. Shower first, swooning later.

The bathroom was beautiful in a very old-world way—ornate tile, deep marble sink, and shelves stacked with fluffy towels. The shower was bliss, steam chasing away the tension clinging to my body. The soap was lavender and sandalwood, soothing and faintly masculine, and I wondered absently if it was his. Then I felt silly. Of course the soap was his. I was in his quarters.

As promised, fresh clothes were waiting when I emerged. My old ones had vanished—probably incinerated, honestly—and in their place was a perfectly folded outfit: dark jeans that somehow fit like a dream and a white T-shirt that felt like it cost more than my entire wardrobe.

I pulled it on, smoothing the sleeves down. They stopped short of my wrists and I felt uncomfortable for a second as I tried to pull them lower. Fidgeting denied. I wondered if that was purposeful. Never mind.

Still towel-drying my hair, I wandered back out into the main room. Marcus was at a desk, elegant fingers writing something in a language I couldn't recognize despite a strange sense of familiarity—Latin, maybe? He looked up and smiled, his whole face coming alight when he saw me.

"Vieni qua, beloved," he said, pulling out the same chair I'd napped on earlier. [Come here, beloved.]

I curled into it gratefully, noticing a white throw draped over the back now. He was trying to make me comfortable—one small, quiet gesture at a time.

"Thanks for the clothes," I said, eloquently.

He brushed my damp hair behind my ear, fingertips skimming my neck. I shivered. "Mi fa piacere. I want to give you everything." [It pleases me.]

I swallowed hard, my heart a traitor beneath my ribs. "Marcus… tell me about her?"

His face stilled, ancient sorrow rippling beneath his eyes.

"Didyme," I whispered, brushing my fingers against his chest. "Please?"

For a long moment, I thought he wouldn't. But then he drew me into his lap, so close our breaths mingled. And he told me. In low, aching tones, he spoke of the woman he once loved—the one who made his eternity feel like life, only to be torn away.

I cried freely. Not just for her, but for him—for centuries lived in pain and numbness. For the weight he carried, and for the miracle of our bond. That after all this time, the fates hadn't forgotten him. Or me.

I wasn't her replacement. He made that clear. I was his future.

When the silence returned, heavy but healing, my stomach chose that moment to growl. Loudly.

Marcus blinked, then smiled. "Hai fame, amore mio?" [Are you hungry, my love?]

I groaned, hiding my face in his shoulder. "Apparently."

He kissed the blush from my cheek, murmuring, "Deliziosa," before pulling back with a mischievous glint in his eyes. [Delicious.] "You need food, immediately."

I barely had time to laugh before he disappeared again, only to reappear less than a minute later. "It's on its way."

The knock at the door came soon after. Marcus answered it, and a human man—Andreas—entered with a large cloth bag and a pizza box that made my stomach audibly rejoice. He bowed low to both of us.

"Master. Mistress."

Mistress. That was… a lot. But I didn't dwell. The food smelled divine.

I practically inhaled the pasta, moaning a little at the taste, earning a deeply amused look from Marcus. Between bites, I told him about Forks. About school and rainy mornings, about Charlie and the wolves—shifters, as he corrected me, gently but firmly.

I had tensed at him knowing of their existence, but he explained that there was no hiding it—Aro had learned of them in Alice's mind. I had cringed at the memory he must have witnessed of Jake threatening Alice while I fearlessly—stupidly—stood between them before we ran off to the airport.

When I mentioned James, a flicker of cold fury crossed Marcus' face, but he remained calm. I told him about my scar, and how the Cullens had saved me. He listened intently, his hand never letting go of mine.

Later, we agreed that inviting Renée to Forks for graduation would be better than traveling down to Florida. I'd miss her, but I couldn't risk too many eyes watching us too closely.

By the time dessert arrived—tiramisu, of course—I was so full I could barely move. I leaned into Marcus' side, warmth and weariness battling for dominance.

Sleep won.

This time, it was deep. Restful. Safe.

And when I finally woke again, I surfaced slowly, reluctantly, like rising through warm honey. The world was quiet, and I couldn't be sure of the time. But I knew I wasn't alone. I felt her before I saw her—a spark in the air, the flutter of energy that could only belong to one person.

"Alice," I murmured, eyes still closed.

A delighted giggle answered me. "How do you do that?" she whispered, perched like a wraith at the foot of the couch.

I opened my eyes to find her sitting cross-legged on the chaise near my feet, impossibly elegant in a silky black blouse and jeans that looked like they'd been tailored by a Parisian ghost. Her inky hair was perfectly tousled—casually chaotic in the way only Alice could pull off—and her eyes shimmered like gold-tinted honey.

"You have a presence," I said, stretching slowly beneath the throw Marcus had draped over me. "Like a static charge before lightning."

She grinned. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"It is," I said, propping myself up on one elbow. "What time is it?"

She tilted her head, considering. "Technically morning, but not by much. Almost nine."

"Feels like I could sleep for three more days."

She scooted closer, eyeing me critically. "Your body has gone through too much. But you do look better. Color's back. The circles under your eyes are softer." Her smile turned fond, almost wistful. "He's taking care of you already."

I felt warmth spread through me, low and steady. "He really is."

She didn't say I told you so, but her smile did.

I sat up fully, dragging the throw with me. My hair was probably a disaster. My T-shirt slightly wrinkled. I felt exposed and yet… safe. Alice's eyes flicked down, and she arched one perfect brow.

"Cute shirt. Borrowed from the husband?"

I flushed, too embarrassed to protest her choice of word. "Not technically—"

"Oh please." She waved a hand. "You're mated now. Everything of his is yours. Including his wardrobe. Including his bed, once you stop being shy about it."

I choked on nothing. "Alice!"

She just laughed, bright and bubbling. "Don't worry. I'll give you some time before I start teasing you in earnest. Maybe."

There was a pause, tender and quiet. Her eyes softened.

"I missed you," she said gently.

That cracked something open in me. I blinked hard. "I missed you too."

It wasn't just words. Seeing her here—vibrant, radiant, so unmistakably Alice—felt like finding a piece of myself I hadn't known was missing. Like a bridge back to the girl I'd been, even as I stood on the edge of becoming someone new.

"Everything's changed," I whispered.

She reached out, taking my hand. "And yet… not the things that matter."

I looked down at our joined fingers. Small and cool and sure, hers wrapped around mine. A lifeline.

"I'm scared," I admitted, voice barely audible.

"I know." Her voice was velvet-wrapped steel. "But I've seen the other side of this, Bella. You won't be for long. You're stronger than you think. And he—" she smiled, "—he's perfect for you."

I swallowed thickly. "You've seen it?"

"I saw you," she said simply. "In every version of the future that didn't end in ashes."

She didn't have to elaborate. I understood. The Volturi's judgment. The confrontation with the wolves. Victoria's threats. The Cullen vote. I had balanced on the edge of a blade for so long—and in every vision that ended in light, Marcus had been there.

"Thank you," I whispered. "For coming. For staying."

She rolled her eyes dramatically. "As if I was going to let you face ancient vampire politics and an emotionally reawakened Marcus alone. Besides, someone has to dress you. I always wanted to dress royalty."

I laughed, the sound surprising me. She grinned like it was a victory.

A soft knock interrupted us. Alice tilted her head, already knowing who it was.

"Speak of the devil," she said smugly.

The door creaked open a moment later, and Marcus entered like a dream. Dark suit. Calm presence. Eyes only for me. When they landed on Alice, he inclined his head in a courtly greeting.

"Cara," he said. "You've returned." [Dear one.]

Alice stood gracefully. "I figured she'd need breakfast. And a reality check."

He glanced at me, concern flickering. "How are you feeling?"

I nodded slowly. "Better. Still overwhelmed. But… better."

Marcus moved to me, brushing a cool knuckle along my jaw. "Good. You are adjusting faster than I dared hope."

"You have breakfast?" Alice interjected, and at his faint nod, she clapped her hands. "Perfect. I'll give you two a minute. Bella, eat. Then shower. I laid out something fabulous."

I wanted to protest, but nodded instead when I saw the stubborn edge to her expression. She winked, and in a flutter of silk and shadows, she was gone.

I looked up at Marcus, still slightly dazed.

"Is it always going to be like this?" I asked.

He smiled faintly. "If you mean full of surprises and strange visitors… yes. But I promise you, mia cara, the constant will be this: you and I. Together." [my dear]

I leaned into his touch, my heart steady in a way it hadn't been in months.

"Then I can do this," I said. "As long as I have that."

His lips brushed my temple, reverent and sure.

"You will have everything, Isabella."

A/N:

Thank you so much for continuing this journey with me—every comment, follow, and little heart you leave behind genuinely means the world. Your love keeps me writing ✨ If you are curious, chapter 5 will be our last chapter in Volterra for a while too, Charlie will appear in Chapter 6 and I am so excited for that chapter!

💬 Let's play a littel game, shall we?

✨ What's Your Twilight-Inspired Vampire Name? ✨

1. Take a vampy twist on your first name or nickname by adding one suffixe to it: -elle, -ael, -ira, -an, -wyn, -os, -en, -is, -ith, -oré…

2. Then match it with your Zodiac Vampire Surname below, inspired by the covens and characters of Twilight: 🌙

Aries – Hale

Taurus – Masen

Gemini – Denali

Cancer – Whitlock

Leo – Volturi

Virgo – Swan

Libra – McCarthy

Scorpio – Cullen

Sagittarius – Amun

Capricorn – Zafrina

Aquarius – Siobhan

Pisces – Alistair

I will be Adara Volturi, at your service 🔥👑 Reply with your vampire name and I'll send you a preview of Chapter 5 xx

Until next time, miei cari lettori. 🔥

— Ada(ra )