𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒, Volturi Kings

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ³

ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴀ ʟᴏᴛ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜɪꜱ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪ'ᴍ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴀ ᴊᴀꜱᴘᴇʀ x ᴏᴄ ꜰɪᴄ ꜱᴏᴏɴ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴊᴀꜱᴘᴇʀ ɪɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʙᴏᴏᴋ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪʟʟ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʜɪᴍ ɪɴ ᴛɪᴛᴀɴɪᴄ (ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴀᴍᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇᴡ ʙᴏᴏᴋ). ɪᴛ ʜᴀꜱ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ʜᴇᴀᴠʏ ᴛᴏᴘɪᴄꜱ ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪᴛ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀꜱ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴀꜱ ʙʀᴏᴋᴇɴ ᴍᴇᴍᴏʀɪᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅɪꜱᴛɪʟʟᴇᴅ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍꜱ.

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Hearing Edward and Bella let out cries of protest as Stefan was dragged by his collar to my mates was one of the only noises from them that gave me a rush of happiness. Knowing that one of the most evil vampires of all time was about to die was good enough for me, but the two lovers in front of me had brought him here to side with them, to work with them and to try and kill my coven. Stefan's growls were music to my ear. No matter what he said or did, we would always find him. This time, we would kill him.

Someone like him didn't have the right to live on the same plane of existence as me.

"Ah, how I have waited so long to do this," Aro mused, "Getting rid of you will be one of my greatest achievements to date."

"Filthy Italian scum!" Stefan growls at my raven-haired mate.
"Now, now, Stefan, I know that you know that I'm not Italian. Come on, you know this. We've hated each other for over two thousand years, man, I would at least like to think that you'd have learnt where I am from," Aro says, clearly offended at the notion.

"Live in Italy for so long and one would assume you become Italian, filthy bastard," he sneers.

"You assumed wrong," Aro says cheerfully as he rips off one of his arms, giving a crazed smile. "Next time assume right. Marcus! Let's have some fun with him before he goes."

"Obviously," Marcus rolls his eyes, "I would be offended if you killed him quickly."

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I had decided that taking my son away from this execution would be best. Having a six month old witness the execution of the man who likely ordered for his mother's pregnancy was bad enough, but Stefan had also killed his aunt.

"Mamma, when do we get food?" My son asks, biting at my cloak. "M' hungry."

"I bet you are, baby, but we have to wait for daddies to get back to the house. Once they get back you can have all the blood and cookies you want," I promise.

Quite a few vampires had already been let in the house. The ones that my family did know were chatting it up in the family room. Inside of the living room I sat with my son, trying to keep him comfortable. Just like me, he had a tendency to get into things when he's hungry. Or worse, he throws a fit because of how overtired and hungry he gets.

Those don't end well for anyone.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the little surprise," Alexandros snarks, "Never did I ever think I would see the day when something like you came into our mix."

"Play nice with my son, Alexandros," I warn, "He's worse than Afton and Jane combined. Little Heelie will eat you alive if you talk bad about anyone."

"You wound me, my queen, what kind of impression did I give you to make you think I would do such a thing? I would never speak ill of anyone in front of the prince of the vampires. It would be disrespectful."

"That it would be," I stand up with my son in my arms, "Have my mates come back yet? Or have they decided that hour long torture is more of their style at the moment."