TAINTED BLOOD (Aro Volturi X Reader)

The Time is Now

The sun, a mocking orb of gold, dipped below the horizon each day, painting the sky in hues of bruised purple and angry orange. Days bled into weeks, each one a fresh wound to Aro's already frayed patience. His mate, Y/N, was held captive, a thought that gnawed at his very soul. The rage, a simmering cauldron within his chest, threatened to boil over, threatening to consume him entirely.

He paced the length of his chambers. The scent of Y/N, faint yet lingering, clung to his memories, a phantom touch that both comforted and tortured him. He yearned to tear through the walls of her prison, to shatter the chains that bound her, to claim her back with the force of a volcanic eruption.

Elrond, ever the voice of reason, a beacon of calm amidst Aro's storm, would gently remind him to wait. "Patience, my friend," he'd say, his voice a soothing balm. "Haste will only jeopardize her safety. We must be certain of our actions."

But how could Aro be patient? How could he remain calm when the very air he breathed was laced with the agonizing knowledge of Y/N's suffering? His heart, a caged beast, clawed at his ribs, demanding release.

his predatory instincts were pushing against barbed wire.

Then, a small hand, soft and warm, would grip his finger. His daughter, her eyes mirroring the deep, fathomless pools of his own, would look up at him with an innocent trust that pierced through his anger like sunlight through storm clouds. Her presence, her vulnerability, was a grounding force. Her small hand, an in fact, clinging to his, was a tangible reminder of what he was fighting for, a reminder of the fragile beauty that he desperately needed to protect.

He would inhale deeply, the scent of her lavender Vanilla scented hair calming his racing pulse. The raging storm within him would momentarily subside, replaced by a wave of fierce protectiveness. He would hold her close, the warmth of her small body a soothing balm against the fire that burned within him.

For her, for Y/N, he would wait. He would control the monstrous force that threatened to consume him. He would channel his rage into a weapon, a sharp, focused energy that would ensure Y/N's safe return. He would bide his time, gathering his strength, his patience a weapon as sharp as any blade.

The sun would rise again, painting the sky in shades of hope and despair. And Aro, holding his daughter close, would wait, the promise of vengeance and reunion burning bright within his heart. The wait was excruciating, a trial of his very being, but it was a test he was determined to pass, for the sake of his beloved Y/N, and for the innocent life that clung to his finger, a beacon of light in the darkness.

The air in the chamber was suddenly infused with something else – now the sweet, ethereal fragrance of starlight and wildflowers. Aro, his senses honed to an almost unbearable sharpness, felt it before he saw her. Arwen, stood just beyond the threshold.

He knew, without a glance, who it was. A subtle shift in the very essence of the room heralded her arrival, a silent symphony only he could truly hear.

"Aro," she said, her voice a gentle melody. "You have received a letter."

Aro nodded, his crimson eyes flickering towards his child within his arms, a child of both darkness and light, lay sleeping. He held out a hand, a silent request, and Arwen, with the grace of a willow in a summer breeze, stepped forward and gently lifted the babe.

The warmth of the child's tiny body filled Aro's hand, a comforting weight against the anxieties that gnawed at his heart. He took the letter from Arwen.

His eyes, the colour of a blood moon, widened as he broke the seal.

"We are coming, we will avenge.