TAINTED BLOOD (Aro Volturi X Reader)

Death Bed

Y/N, her body slick with sweat that glistened like dew on a summer morning. The remnants of dried blood stained her wrists with the intoxicating scent of her tainted blood and the tanging scent of the poison that once was there. She was alive yet trapped in an ether of her own making, her mind lost in a vivid labyrinth of dreams—a bittersweet prison that replayed the echoes of her past.

In the recesses of her unconscious mind, memories morphed into visions, swirling around her like leaves caught in an autumn gale. She was young girl, about the age of 10 again. laughter spilling from her lips in a sun-drenched meadow, but then, as swiftly as it appeared, the jagged edges of sorrow cut through. The faces of loved ones, twisted in grief, haunted her. The shadows of decisions made, paths not taken weighed heavily on her heart, pulling her deeper into the chasm of despair.

And then there he was, Aro. The name whispered through the storm in her mind, a beacon of warmth amid the icy darkness. His voice, like honeyed silk, wrapped around her, soothing and steadfast, calling her back from the brink.

"Y/N" he urged, but the surreal world around her felt like quicksand—heavy, unyielding, dragging her down with its insidious grip.

A chill slithered down her spine, igniting a fire within her veins, a boiling heat she never felt before. Memories of their first meeting flickered before her. The way he looked at her, an unguarded admiration that cut through her defenses. Aro was her mate, destined to be her anchor in the storm. She remembered the taste of his silly laughter and the way his hand felt in hers. For all the scars she bore, for all the shadows that loomed, he had sparked a flicker of hope.

his crimson eyes

With each heartbeat, the memories swirled around her—his steady gaze, the way he cradled her face, the promise he made to stand by her side through every tempest. That warmth rekindled her spirit, echoing through the deep recesses of despair. She remembered the fierceness of his love, igniting a fire in her heart that fought against the shadows.

As she fought her way through the tide of memories, a light began to break through the darkness.

and with a breath, she cried out, "Aro!"

In that moment, an unexpected surge of clarity broke her free. The vision faded, replaced by the harsh reality of the room. Y/N gasped as she jolted awake, her surroundings sharp and tangible. The echoes of her dreams faded like flames licking at the edges of consciousness.

Her heart racing as she pushed herself up from the cool silken sheets. Panic gripped her chest momentarily, but familiarity washed over her as she took in her surroundings. She was in her bedchamber, deep within the Volturi castle. Yet, something felt off—eerie and unsettling.

The light streaming through the large window was agonizing. It pierced through her eyelids even when they were tightly shut, a warm glow that felt foreign. Y/N squinted, shielding her eyes with her hand as she tried to acclimate to the brightness. Instinctively, she turned toward the farthest corner of the room, where shadows cloaked the walls, hoping to find solace in darkness. But the shadows seemed to retreat, pushing away into the deep recesses of the chamber, as if they, too, were frightened by whatever had disturbed the delicate balance of her world.

As her senses began to sharpen, she could hear the faintest whispers—familiar voices murmuring just beyond her chamber door. Y/N was acutely aware of every sound, from the fluttering of a moth against the intricate tapestry to the ticking of an ornate clock that seemed to echo in a rhythm different from her own heartbeat. Each tick felt like a countdown, the seconds stretching into an eternity. Her instincts screamed that she should flee, yet her body was sluggish, still recovering from whatever had rendered her unconscious.