Timeless Ties || Volturi Kings

47. Evermore

And I was catchin' my breath
Barefoot in the wildest winter, catchin' my death
And I couldn't be sure
I had a feeling so peculiar

— Taylor Swift, Bon Iver

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That night, the moment her dreams began, Alessia found herself facing a scene she had never witnessed.

She found herself in a chaotic room, where broken objects seemed to tell the story of some violent event. Shards of pottery were strewn across the floor, so thoroughly shattered that piecing them back together felt impossible. The remnants of delicate vases or bowls were reduced to unrecognizable fragments. Paint was splattered in erratic bursts across the walls and floor, as if someone had hurled it in frustration. Half-dried clay clung stubbornly to surfaces, giving the space a sense of abandonment, as though an artist had left in haste, leaving their work unfinished and forgotten.

Scattered among the wreckage were bricks, broken into two or three pieces, the jagged edges surrounded by fine dust that had settled like a layer of ash. In the midst of the chaos, a deep red stain caught her eye. It spread unevenly across the floor, dark and vivid, almost like blood, though it wasn't. Because, nearby, what appeared to be crushed mulberries had been smeared into the surface — the true source for the color.

What most caught her attention, however, what made her feel like her heart would beat out of her chest, was the only other person present.

Caius stood in the center of the room, his platinum hair disheveled, dust lightly coating his body, stark against his fair skin. His chest, uncovered and heaving, was exposed by the loose garment he wore, and his feet were bare. His gaze seemed unfocused, staring at nothing in particular, while a tumult of emotions played across his face. His left hand was clenched tightly into a fist, and in his right, a piece of bronze was lodged, piercing clean through the flesh.

Caius didn't seem to notice the bronze shard embedded in his hand, as if oblivious to the pain or its very presence. But Alessia... Alessia was on the edge of panicking.

This was Caius. What could have possibly happened for Caius to be in such a state? Had he been attacked? What was that faintly sweet smell? Was the threat still lurking nearby? Was he so weakened that he lacked the strength to remove the shard from his hand? Where were Aro and Marcus? They should be helping him. Were they unable to, or had something happened to them as well? Could their own coven members have betrayed them? She knew they shouldn't have trusted them.

Aro, Caius, and Marcus were so foolish. How could it be that Alessia was linked to them of all people?

Alessia knew she needed to time travel and undo this — but undo what exactly? What if she rewound time to just before this happened to Caius, only for him to be attacked again the minute she arrived? He would be forced to protect not only himself but also her, vulnerable in her human form. What if, this time, with her presence, he didn't survive because he couldn't protect them both? The thought terrified her. Would her interference seal his fate instead of saving him?

Worse: what if he had been kidnapped? Would someone even manage to keep Caius locked up like that? Surely he would have already escaped if that was the case. He was visibly enraged, but also remarkably tense and profoundly concerned. Clearly, something must have transpired. Was he worried about himself, about Aro, about Marcus, or perhaps all of them?

Alessia hurried out of the room only to be met with the normal bustle of the city outside. A realization struck her — this was merely a room, an unguarded square space in the heart of Tiryns. At least Caius had not been kidnapped, she thought, even though he remained vulnerable, recovering from an apparent assault and seemingly unable to muster the strength to pull a massive shard of bronze from his hand. This situation implied that Aro and Marcus had also been attacked; otherwise, they would have already come to his aid. Alessia understood the urgency of discovering what had transpired so she could caution Caius in time, ensuring he departed before he became a target himself, much like she had done for Marcus.