Y/N is a witch on the run from Viktor and his Death Dealers... for conspicuous reasons. Along the way she makes a vital yet crucial decision that leads her to the Volturi. Aro Volturi had no intention falling in love with a mortal, let alone a witch...
Aro, lurked behind a concealed room just behind her tapestried walls, his gaze fixed upon the ethereal beauty of Y/N. The tapestry that draped the walls provided him with a clandestine vantage point, allowing him to observe her every move unseen.
Y/N, unaware of Aro's presence, moved gracefully about her chamber, her long, flowing hair cascading over her shoulders like a silken waterfall. The flickering candlelight cast an ethereal glow upon her skin, illuminating her delicate features and the soft curves of her body.
Aro's crimson eyes sparkled with a predatory hunger as he witnessed her captivating presence. Her every gesture, every breath she took, ignited a fire within him, a longing that he had never experienced before.
He had been drawn to Y/N's essence from the moment he had first laid eyes upon her. Her beauty was unparalleled, her spirit untamed. She was a creature of light, contrasting sharply with the darkness that consumed his own existence.
As the night wore on, Y/N prepared for her slumber. She shed her daily attire, revealing the ivory skin beneath. Aro's gaze lingered on the gentle swell of her breasts and the swell of her stomach, the curve of her hips.
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A surge of desire coursed through his veins, threatening to overwhelm him. He longed to touch her, to taste the sweetness of her skin, to possess her body and soul.
But Aro knew that he could not act on his impulses.
Aro continued his crimsons gaze while Y/N placed on her white nightgown. Its ethereal fabric cascaded over her body like a silken waterfall, revealing the graceful curves beneath. Aro's heart quickened at the sight of her vulnerability and allure.
As she slipped into the nightgown, her movements were as fluid as a dancer's. The soft fabric hugged her form, accentuating her delicate features and the faint blush that adorned her cheeks. Aro felt a surge of possessive desire wash over him.
"My dearest Orchard" he murmured to himself, his voice a silken caress, "you are a vision of loveliness."
In the soft glow of the fireplace and candlelight, Y/N stood before her mirror, her eyes tracing her reflection. The nightgown now clung slightly to her swollen belly, a testament to the life growing within her.
The once-flat abdomen had given way to a gentle mound, its surface silken and soft. Her breasts had become fuller, their tips tinged with a rosy hue. Her skin now glowed with an ethereal radiance.
Y/N began to think of Aro, how much she missed him. Not only his presence. But she missed him inside her. She was beginning to be overwhelmed by a different feeling. This was not sorrow, this was intrigue. She was horny. She was wanting Aro. She missed his touch and she wanted to feel him inside her again.
Y/N then moved her hand up and grasped her breasts within her palms as she watched herself in the mirror. She could feel her soft perky breasts and how much they had swollen. The pink hue perking between her soft fingers.
His eyes wide with surprise and a hint of lust, Aro couldn't believe what he was witnessing. Y/N was blissfully unaware of the spectator behind her, completely engrossed in her own reflection.
