TAINTED BLOOD (Aro Volturi X Reader)

Raging on

The clearing blanketed in white lay frozen as time itself. The cold air was thick with tension as both armies, each a reflection of their leaders' valor and ambition, advanced cautiously through the snow. Clad in armor glistening like the ice around them and blanketed in crimson like the blood they planned to spill.

Viktor, Marcus, Elrond and Aro kept their glares on each other. Both sides striding in silence until they met an understandably distance.

"Today, we fight for our legacies," Marcus called out, his voice cutting through the chill. "But I shall not allow your ambition to desecrate what is mine!"

Viktor only smirked,

"You speak of legacy, Marcus, but legacy is not how you obtained what you claim is yours" Aro spoke back. His crimsons filled with the fire of the Volturi leader.

Elrond raised an eyebrow, concern etched in his features. He knew the stakes were more than just physical power; they were about the very essence of their realm. "This is not a game of pride or anger. We tread on the precipice of destruction. Using such power recklessly will consume us all."

But Marcus, driven by the fire of battle and his own resentment, raised his hand to the sky as a war cry erupted from his troops.

The battlefield stretched endlessly before Aro.

Both sides roaring and running across the landscape. only to meet one another in death.

Aro heard nothing. Everything fell silent. Everything he was witnessing seemed to slow down, leaving him to count each breath leaving an Elves and Vampires lungs. The only sound Aro could hear throbbing in his mind was Y/N's heartbeat.

Suddenly, the roaring sound of the armies were met as they clashed. Cries and screams surrounding the atmosphere. Their armies were mixed and tangled amongst each other. Making the only way out a death cry.

Aro was now standing in the midst of the destruction. Everything was a mess. Aro fought many wars through his immortal ancient life. Even mortal wars from a time he could remember. Yet, he thought he would be done with the bloodshed.

The waste of blood.

Yet, amid the clashing of swords, the cries of warriors, the elemental fury of magic unleashed, everything fell silent to Aro's ears. Time seemed to warp, stretching out like the twilight sky above him. Each footfall, every whispered incantation, every war cry receded into a muffled void.

There, he sought out Marcus who met his stare.

"Aro!" Marcus roared across from him as he strode swiftly toward Aro.

Aro matched his stride.

"You think this is a game, Aro?" Marcus sneered; his breath heavy. "You've always underestimated me. Do you think your prowess makes you invincible?"

"Prowess might make a man powerful, but you, Marcus," Aro responded with a shrug that belied the anger swelling inside him, "you've become a mere nuisance, and today, I'll show you just how harmless you are."

Undeterred, Marcus charged, the ground shaking beneath his feet. He was a whirlwind of energy, his strikes fueled by a blend of bravado and desperation. Aro danced around him, each movement deliberate and calculated, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. The echoes of metal clashing filled the air around them as Aro dodged past Marcus's furious blows, waiting, watching.

And then it came—an opening. Aro moved with precision, channeling all his strength into a single, devastating blow. The punch connected with Marcus's jaw, the force sending him sprawling back as if he had been struck by a thunderbolt. Time seemed to halt as the world held its breath. Marcus hit the ground hard, consciousness slipping away, his body a ragdoll against the unforgiving snow.