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...
The twilight sky bled into a bruised purple, mirroring the emotions that clawed at Aro's heart. Hours had bled since Y/N had vanished.
A cacophony of worried whispers and frantic footfalls filled the air. Elrond, his face etched with worry, directed the elven guards, their elven light flickering like dying embers in the encroaching darkness. Aro's Volturi, a silent storm of black cloaks and cold fury, combed the undergrowth, their normally impenetrable composure fractured by a shared, unspoken dread.
Arwen, her usually ethereal beauty clouded by distress, moved like a wraith through the Elven fortress, calling Y/N's name in a voice that held a desperate hope that threatened to shatter. She had become friends with Y/N, a bond forged in shared laughter and whispered secrets. The thought of Y/N being lost, truly lost, was a wound that tore through her heart.
Aro, however, felt a different kind of pain. A cold, consuming fear that twisted his usually calm demeanor into a storm of barely contained rage. He had never felt this vulnerable, this exposed. Y/N, had become a vital part of his existence, a link to a world he couldn't fully comprehend yet desperately craved. she is his mate, his wife, the mother of his child. The thought of her being hurt, being killed, was a terrifying prospect. It was a threat to the very foundation of his carefully constructed world.
But, he knew. He knew that this had to do with the impending war. Marcus and the north would take Y/N as a bargain. They knew Y/N meant a great deal to him and she was the only way they could hurt him. Truly hurt him.
"Find her!" he roared, his voice echoing through the vast Elven landscape, a sound that sent shivers down the spines of even the most hardened Volturi and Elven guards. "Find her, or I will unleash a fury upon this world that will make the fall of the elves look like a gentle breeze."
His words were laced with desperation, a raw emotion rarely seen. He was terrified. Terrified that the vibrant light that Y/N brought into his life had been extinguished. Terrified that the world, without her, would be a cold, desolate wasteland.
The life he lived before her.
The search continued, a frantic ballet of despair and hope played out under the darkening sky. But as the night deepened, and the stars emerged like cold, distant eyes, the hope began to dwindle. The forest held its secrets close, refusing to yield its captive. Aro, alone in the shadowed heart of Rivendell could only stare into the void, a chilling premonition of loss settling over him like a shroud. The world was silent, save for the rhythmic beating of his own heart, a frantic drumbeat of fear and a growing, terrifying certainty that Y/N might never return.
The wind whipped Aro's cloak around him, a cold, mocking embrace mirroring the icy grip of fear that constricted his chest. The once vibrant colors of the sky were muted, the sky a canvas of bruised purple and ashen gray, reflecting the bleakness within him. Y/N was gone. Vanished. And the weight of her absence pressed down on him, crushing him under the rubble of guilt and self-recrimination.
Every morning, he had risen before the sun, a phantom of duty driving him to the maps where Elrond sat. Preparing for the inevitable war that loomed like a thundercloud on the horizon. He had been consumed by the need to be ready, to be strong, to protect his people. But in his relentless pursuit of preparedness, he had neglected the most important thing – the woman he loved.
Now, the echoes of her laughter, the warmth of her smile, were replaced by an agonizing silence. A silence that screamed accusations at him. "You should have been there," it whispered. "You should have been with her. You could have protected her."
The whispers were relentless, a chorus of self-doubt that haunted his every waking moment. He replayed their last conversation, her gentle smile, the way her hand had lingered in his.
Aro clenched his fists, the knuckles white against his skin. He was a warrior, a protector, yet he had failed the one person he was sworn to shield. The thought of her, alone and vulnerable, in the clutches of whatever had taken her, the thought of Viktor taking her made him sick, it fueled a rage that burned hotter than any battlefield fire.
He paced the grounds, the once comforting scent of earth now heavy with the stench of despair. His eyes, usually sharp and alert, were dull with grief, reflecting the shattered fragments of his heart.
The anger, raw and unyielding, began to consume him. He was a fool, a blind, arrogant fool who had prioritized a war he couldn't even foresee winning over the love of his life. He had traded her safety for the illusion of security, and now, the price of his negligence was a wound that no battle could ever heal.
Aro stopped pacing, his gaze fixed on the horizon, where the first sliver of the sun was beginning to peek through the clouds. A single tear, a silent testament to his pain, traced a path down his weathered cheek. He would find her. He would bring her back, even if it meant facing down the darkest corners of the world, even if it meant sacrificing everything he had ever held dear.
His love for Y/N was his only anchor in this sea of despair, the only flame that still flickered in the desolate landscape of his heart. And that love, fueled by guilt and a burning desire for redemption, would guide him, drive him, until he held her in his arms once more.
A wave of wind brushed against Aro's skin, causing his hair to shift in the breeze. It was a gentle caress, a whisper, yet it carried something far more potent than the chill. It carried a familiar and rare scent, a scent that sent a jolt of recognition through his ancient being.
Y/N's scent.
Y/N's scent had been scattered all over Rivendell. He scented everywhere she been. unable to comprehend what was fresh of what had been.
But this, this scent was stronger.
The vanilla and lavender scent of Y/N, a unique blend that had become etched in his memory, a phantom limb of a love both forbidden and cherished. Aro's crimson eyes widened in realization, a flicker of something akin to hope igniting in their depths.
He had believed her lost, swallowed by time and the cruel whims of fate. Yet, here, carried on the wind, was a whisper of her very essence, a promise of her continued existence.
Aro, moved with a grace that belied his age, a predatory elegance that spoke of centuries spent honing his senses, his every step guided by the faintest trace of vanilla and lavender. The scent grew stronger, weaving its way through the Rivendell landscape and to the hidden tunnel. A trail leading him towards the forest.
The forest floor crunched beneath his boots, each step echoing with the weight of his anticipation. The wind, his unseen accomplice, creating a symphony of hushed whispers that seemed to echo his own burgeoning hope.
As the scent intensified, Aro felt a familiar warmth bloom in his chest, a sensation he had thought would be forever extinguished. It was a warmth that bordered on pain, a bittersweet reminder of the love he had lost and the possibility of its rediscovery.
Suddenly, Aro glanced down to his boot. There, on the ground hidden within the forest was her ring. The ruby now held within his grasp. There, he scented her. A strong scent of her tainted blood that surged through her delicate veins. Along with something else.
Aro's eyes scanned the earth surrounding him. He picked up three more scents. A scent of two northern vampires...death dealers and the scent of the familiar witch that harbored him when Marcus was stripping him of his fangs.
the thought created a low predatory sound from the back of Aro's throat.
With a swift turn, Aro made his way back through the tunnel and into the Rivendell landscape. With thundered footsteps, Aro made his way to Elrond. There he informed him of what he found. Aro holding up the crimson ruby within his palm, Elrond nodding in realization and agreement.
"We will plan for war, soon than we expected" Elrond spoke.
Aro clinched the ring within his grasp and nodded. quickly turning on the heel of his boots and making his way to the bedchamber.
There, he began writing. Writing to the one person Y/N trusted.
An individual that Aro learned to trust as well.
Lucian and his clan.
Time was of the essence, and he needed to move fast......
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
