Volterra — Salão Superior
POV: Marcus
Aro's laughter echoed through the marble hall — bright, delighted, unbearably triumphant.
It scraped against Marcus's ears like metal.
"Oh, the elegance of it!" Aro exclaimed, gliding across the polished floor as if he could barely contain himself. "The conditioning was a masterpiece, Caius. Absolutely pristine."
Caius smirked."He's obedient now. Utterly."
Marcus stood near one of the pillars, hands folded before him, posture perfectly neutral.Silent.Still.Exactly what Aro expected him to be.
Aro did not look at him.Aro never looked at him anymore unless it was to confirm the same thing he'd seen for a century:
Marcus is quiet.Marcus is empty.Marcus is safe.
And Marcus let him believe that.
It was the only weapon he had left.
Aro continued pacing, spreading his fingers as if conducting an invisible orchestra.
"Just imagine, Caius! Lucian will slip into Carlisle's home like a lost lamb. And Carlisle…"Aro chuckled, soft and cruel."He will take him in. Protect him. Love him. And through that kindness…"
Caius finished with a razor-sharp smile:"…we will find their weaknesses."
Marcus watched them.Not with interest.Not with anger.
With truth.
That was all that remained in him now — the ability to see things others hid from themselves.
Lucian had not broken.Not truly.
Aro did not know.Caius certainly didn't.
Marcus had sensed it the moment the boy's thoughts flickered — the pulse of a mind folding inward, not collapsing.A mind hiding itself.
Just as Marcus had learned to do.
Aro believed he had shaped a weapon.
But Marcus had seen something different.
He had seen a child choosing silence over destruction.
He had seen himself — centuries ago, before Aro's hand touched Didyme's and ended Marcus's world.
Aro kept speaking, his excitement rising.
"This is our moment, Caius. This hybrid— this perfect creature — will do what even our guard could not. He will infiltrate. And he will obey."
Marcus's gaze drifted upward, toward the high arched ceiling, pretending to drift aimlessly.
Inside, his thoughts were razor-sharp.
You fool.You think obedience looks like stillness.You never learned to look deeper.You never learned to look at me.
Aro turned, eyes gleaming.
"Marcus, dear brother, do you not agree this is a glorious day?"
Marcus let his head incline — a shallow, empty nod.Carefully controlled.Emotionless.
Aro smiled, satisfied.
He still believed Marcus saw nothing.
And Marcus intended to keep it that way.
Caius gestured sharply."Prepare Lucian for departure."
"Now," Aro added."We want Carlisle unprepared."
Marcus said nothing.
But inside, quietly, invisibly, a spark pulsed:
If the boy escapes you, Aro…it will be the first thing in a century that you have not controlled.And perhaps the first thing that brings meaning to your fall.
Aro walked away, humming.
Caius followed, smug.
Marcus watched them go.
His face a marble mask.
His mind whispering truths into the silence.
Lucian
The guards unshackled him.
Lucian did not lift his head.Did not change his breathing.Did not reveal the pulse of warm, hidden thought beneath the calm.
He walked when ordered.Stopped when pulled.Nodded when spoken to.
Perfect.
Aro loved perfection.
The guard led him through the long underground corridor.
At the exit gate, Aro appeared once more, smiling with fatherly pride.
"Remember, my child," Aro murmured."Your strength is not yours.It is ours.Everything you are belongs to us."
Lucian's face remained blank.
He lowered his gaze.
"I obey."
Aro's joy radiated like heat.
"Such a good boy."
Lucian turned toward the snow.
The wind hit his face.
And only then did the corners of his lips twitch — a movement so small it vanished instantly.
A whisper of life.
You don't own me.You never did.
He stepped forward.
Into the cold.
Into the world.
Toward the Cullens.
Toward the girl with amber eyes.
Toward freedom.