If you want to support or read some advanced chapters +10 please follow me on: patreon.com/Jayjayemp
The morning at the Cullen house was generous with light, though filtered through Forks' persistent mist. Pale rays slipped through the windows, casting elongated shadows across the wooden floors of the foyer, as if time itself had slowed to witness the moment. The family had gathered there to see Carlisle off. He stood near the door, jacket already fastened and bag slung over his shoulder, radiating that contained calm that always accompanied him before leaving—a calm that contrasted sharply with the tension hanging in the room.
The family's reactions were varied and revealing. Esme could not hide her concern: her soft, subtle hands sought Carlisle's in small squeezes, as if each gesture tried to hold onto him a moment longer. Her eyes shone behind a smile that failed to mask the unease she felt.
Emmett, in contrast, stuck to his usual humor, trying to lighten the weight of the farewell. He approached his father with an open smile and gave him a hearty slap on the back.
"I'll take care of everyone here," he said, his tone a mix of jest and promise, attempting to ease the tension that seemed to envelop the room.
Rosalie, impeccable and restrained, said goodbye to Carlisle with composure, though she couldn't prevent a glance loaded with disdain toward Nate, who stood quietly between Alice and Edward. Nate, serious and controlled, did not return the look; Alice gently held his hand, offering silent support. Edward seemed torn, his golden eyes reflecting a struggle between determination and doubt, while Jasper, in a corner, watched silently, his features only partially illuminated by the light streaming from above.
Carlisle, aware of the weight his words carried, addressed the family with the serene, measured voice he always used when he wanted to be heard.
"I'll only be gone for a short while," he said. "I'll find my friend and return immediately. Please, stay safe; if possible, avoid going out too much. The Quileutes have been patient, but the deadline is approaching. They may grow more aggressive to show they are serious."
The tension in the room was palpable—a heavy silence that seemed to stretch into every corner.
Rosalie, having long held back her impatience, finally spoke with blunt frankness.
"That's why I don't understand why you're leaving. We'll need everyone we can if we're going to face the wolves. You should stay and talk to the Denali. With those numbers, the wolves wouldn't dare come near us."
Carlisle shook his head gently, though his patience was beginning to fray.
"We won't solve this with fights, Rosalie. The purpose of the treaty has always been coexistence. We aren't like the others of our kind, and we must prove it for them to trust us."
Rosalie scoffed, incredulous, then turned her gaze to Nate, accusation burning in her eyes.
"You say that… yet you leave. And all because he asks you to…"
Carlisle placed a hand on Rosalie's shoulder—a gesture both firm and soothing, more a plea than a correction.
"I'm only keeping a promise I made to him," he explained in a deep, confident voice. "Besides, he came here to help us… It's the best I can do for him right now. Please, don't fight in my absence. I'll be back before the deadline; I promise."
Esme squeezed his hand tightly, holding onto the certainty of that promise. Edward finally nodded, though a faint trace of worry still lingered in his expression, a reminder of the fragility of the situation.
There was a heavy silence, loaded with unspoken emotions, before Carlisle moved toward the door. At the threshold, he paused a moment longer, as if to imprint every face in his memory. Then, with measured, confident steps, he left. The soft sound of the door closing echoed through the foyer, leaving a resonance that seemed to thrum in the hearts of those left behind.
The family lingered in the foyer for a few more seconds, watching Carlisle's figure vanish into the mist along the path. Then, one by one, they returned to their daily routines, though the house had, for a moment, lost one of its anchors. His departure left a silent void, an absence everyone felt but none dared to name.
..............................................................
Two days had passed since Carlisle's departure, and almost as if predicted, the Quileutes began to show more aggression. At school, the Cullens maintained the façade of normality. Human students laughed and chatted, oblivious to anything unusual, but the Cullens could sense the difference in the air: a trace of wolf slipped along the edges of the campus, a reminder that the truce hung by a thread. Surrounded by humans, the wolves dared not come too close.
The change came on the afternoon of the second day. Jasper, Emmett, and Rosalie were sharing a ride home when, along a secluded stretch of road, two wolves emerged from the forest. They were enormous, living shadows that lunged at the car with such force the chassis shook. Emmett, behind the wheel, gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles white, ready to brake and face them. But before he could act, the beasts retreated as quickly as they had appeared, merging into the trees. Only the echo of a low growl remained, and the sharp scent of wet earth hung in the air like a threat.
The trio returned home with the incident still fresh in their minds. They recounted it to Esme, who listened without interruption. She frowned, concern etched across her features, though her voice remained calm when she spoke.
"Hold on until Carlisle returns."
It was all she said, but the tension in her tone betrayed the effort she made to stay composed.
Edward, however, seemed less willing to accept waiting. Since Nate's arrival, he had stopped attending school, excusing it as a need to maintain distance from Bella, as they had agreed. Nate suspected that this justification was just a front: Edward stayed home to keep watch.
That afternoon, Edward approached. His voice was low, almost a whisper, as if afraid the others might hear.
"What do we do? There's no sign of Jacob, and this is escalating…"
Nate didn't answer. He merely shook his head, sober, his expression so firm there was no room for discussion: it was still not the time.
The group began dispersing toward their rooms. Nate walked beside Alice when he noticed her stop abruptly. Her eyes fixed on a nonexistent point, shining with the intensity of a vision.
Edward, a few steps ahead, also froze. His expression tensed as he heard something only he could perceive. Nate, however, needed no further explanation. He narrowed his eyes, waiting.
The vision ended as suddenly as it had begun. Alice blinked several times, returning to herself. She walked to Nate, and though her voice was soft, it carried an urgency impossible to ignore.
"The newborns will arrive tonight. They'll wait for you on the road to Port Angeles…"
Nate listened without interruption. He nodded calmly, as if the news did not take him by surprise.
Edward, who had seen the same vision in Alice's mind, reacted immediately. He stepped forward, determination blazing in his words.
"Take me with you when you go to meet them. I can be of use."
Nate watched silently, evaluating. Having him nearby could help: Edward could reveal if the Romanians were moving pieces behind everyone's back. But if that thought crossed his mind, it did not show on his face. His response was brief, sharp.
"We'll discuss it later."
Without saying anything further, he resumed walking with Alice toward her room, leaving Edward behind, frustration marked in his gaze, and the weight of uncertainty pressing on the air.
Their footsteps echoed softly along the hallway as they made their way to Alice's room. The silence between them was thick, broken only by the soft scrape of their shoes on the wooden floor and the distant murmur of the house. Suddenly, Alice grabbed his arm with a sudden movement, forcing him to stop midway.
"You know… It's not a bad idea if we go with Edward." Her eyes, bright and steady, held his without looking away. "I don't trust the Romanians."
Nate remained still, returning her gaze calmly. There was no reproach in his expression, only tense serenity tinged with reluctance.
"But I don't trust Edward," he replied in a low voice. "That's why I've kept my information vague with him. You know we shouldn't drag your family into matters with the Romanians."
Alice shook her head slowly, pressing her lips together, as if the very idea of staying on the sidelines made her uncomfortable.
"It's different with Edward. He could help you if the Romanians plan something behind your back. He could also read the minds of the newborns… There are many ways he could be useful."
Nate barely furrowed his brow. He took a few steps slowly, as if needing to move to think clearly. Finally, he exhaled a resigned sigh and nodded briefly.
"I don't fully trust him… but I trust you. I'll take him with me tonight."
Alice smiled, pleased that she had managed to get him to agree, but as she processed his words, her expression hardened. A crease appeared on her forehead as she looked at him with distrust.
"You'll take him? Don't you mean we'll take him?"
Nate stopped in front of her room's door. He looked at her calmly, his tone serene but unyielding.
"That wouldn't be wise. If both of us are gone, your family will notice immediately. I have an excuse in mind to cover my absence, but this time it will be just Edward and me. You'll have to be patient."
Alice remained silent, annoyed. Her smile had vanished, replaced by a look of discontent, revealing how little she liked the idea. But seeing that Nate had yielded enough to allow Edward's company, she realized she had no room to insist further. She sighed and nodded, resigned, giving a half-smile that didn't reach her eyes.
Without another word, she opened the door and gestured for him to enter.
Alice's room carried its usual serenity: light curtains letting in soft sunlight, open books on the table, and a delicate order that seemed to reflect her own ethereal presence. They lingered there for a while, speaking softly, sharing confidences and small laughs that eased the tension. As was their habit, the hours flew by while they waited for the anticipated meeting.
................................................................
Night fell silently over the Cullen house, and the whisper of wind through the trees seemed to herald the inevitable. A soft knock at the door broke the calm. Nate immediately recognized the measured rhythm of the knuckles: Edward.
He approached calmly and opened the door. Edward stood there, upright, his expression tranquil but with a spark of determination in his eyes.
"All right," Nate murmured, lowering his voice. "You're coming with me."
Edward nodded silently and descended the stairs with light steps. He found Esme in the living room, arranging some cushions with the maternal patience she never lost.
"Esme," he said calmly, "I'll be stepping out for a while with Nate. We have some things to discuss."
She looked up, surprised at first, then her frown softened. She had always noticed the friction between her son and the new presence in the family; the idea that they were trying to approach each other brought some relief, even if the situation wasn't entirely to her liking.
"All right, son. Just don't go too far… You know the Quileutes mustn't find out Nate is here."
Edward bowed his head respectfully and headed to the door.
Upstairs, Nate adjusted his jacket. Alice accompanied him to the hallway, serious, tension contained in her movements. She held his hand before letting him go, her voice barely a whisper.
"Don't be long, okay?"
Nate gave her a calm look, no promises, just the firmness of someone who had already made a decision. He gently released her hand and descended the stairs.
Edward waited for him at the entrance. Without a word, they crossed the threshold together and slipped into the darkness of the night. The silence between them was heavy, broken only by the crunch of branches under their feet as they moved toward the road leading to Port Angeles.
They moved through the trees and shadows as if each branch and root were familiar, as if the night and forest were extensions of their own bodies. Edward moved with an almost supernatural speed, surpassing even the fastest vampire standards. Nate, running slightly ahead, was pleasantly surprised: he didn't have to hold back; he could move freely, almost enjoying the vertigo of speed.
After several minutes of silent progress, Edward lowered his voice, barely a whisper blending with the wind and the crunch of dry leaves.
"This way… in Alice's vision, it seemed like this place."
Nate inhaled deeply, sensing every nuance of the night air. Then he felt it: a familiar scent, recognizable down to the smallest detail, piercing him like an uncomfortable reminder of his own essence. It was the scent of the newborns. His own scent.
With a firm gesture and a look that brooked no argument, he indicated to Edward:
"No matter what doubts you have or what you hear, you say nothing. If I need to speak to you, I'll do it in my mind. Otherwise, stay silent and follow me."
Edward furrowed his brow slightly, discomfort reflected on his face, but finally nodded.
With a fluid leap, Nate climbed into the treetops, disappearing among the shadows of the leaves. Edward followed with equal agility, moving like a silent predator. They jumped from branch to branch, dancing through the darkness until the scent grew stronger, denser, and closer, filling the air with nearly tangible tension.
Then he saw them.
In a clearing, a group of no fewer than twenty vampires had gathered, forming a disordered circle, as if fear and shared vigilance forced them to stay together. Some stared at the ground, others barely restrained the impulse to attack the nearest one. And in the center, dominating everything, stood Stefan. His posture was imposing, every movement loaded with arrogance, with a presence that sliced through the air like an invisible blade. His eyes glowed with a predatory gleam, scanning the newborns with a mixture of contempt and authority, like a hunter sizing up prey.
None of the newborns dared to meet his gaze. All kept their eyes lowered, cowering before his power. Only a few, the most nervous or perhaps the least submissive, were the first to react to the new scent in the air: they lifted their heads and sniffed cautiously. Nate observed them, mentally noting who had reacted first.
Without giving them time to process his presence, Nate silently descended, landing in the center of the circle in front of Stefan. His landing was sharp and firm, a declaration of defiance, and several newborns instinctively recoiled, dragging themselves backward, dominated by a visceral fear emanating from his aura alone.
Edward, driven by curiosity, landed beside him. As soon as his feet touched the ground, he delved into the minds of the newborns. What he found left him speechless. He couldn't feel emotions as Jasper did, but the scattered fragments of thoughts, images, and sensations were clear enough.
He slowly turned to Nate, his eyes reflecting a shade of alarm. In his mind, a single word resonated, direct and raw:
Terror.