— 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟔 —
𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬, 𝐖𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧

Cassandra walked blindly around the Volturi library. Her mates were somewhere in the center discussing new events and upcoming items with the Elite Guard. Thankfully, none of them had noticed her presence and she left their general vicinity before they could.

She ran her hands over the many shelves of books and scrolls mindlessly.

The Volturi had a few different human workers, all in the know of the secret. Of course, such knowledge gave those individuals a thin lifeline. For them: it was either die or be turned, a fate they awaited while working in the Volturi.

Would they be Jane's afternoon snack or the newest Volturi newborn?

The individuals were typically people who came upon knowing the secret of vampirism in one way or another.

When they were found, the Volturi brought them back to Volterra. Some were turned if they showed promise of having a talent, others were put to work, but many were killed on the spot.

It was rare to be turned as the Volturi had no want to train and control newborns unless the individual was worth. AKA, they showed great talent and promise as a vampire.

The lucky ones who were not killed but sadly not immediately turned either were put to work and did the trivial tasks. Things like cleaning or organizing the vast libraries of the Volturi. Sorting and cataloging different artifacts and reads.

Safely storing away such things that they did not need or want immediate access to.

Every few decades or so, the Volturi would reintroduce texts into the main libraries to help keep the interest alive.

To put it into perspective, there were a few different libraries around. Along with that were areas that served almost as miniature museums holding artifacts and rare treasures.

The main library was located at the center of the underground castle. It was also used as one of the main meeting spots between the leaders and the Elite Guard. During such meetings, other vampires were instructed to stay away from this wing.

Cassandra often wished that she could touch things if only to bury her head in such ancient texts. She could only imagine: the tales, legends, and lost histories that were hidden away. Her mates had no doubt read nearly every single text, but she was pretty sure that even they had not had a chance to touch every single artifact nor scroll of information that lived in their walls.

She often wondered about the stories they might be able to tell her; tales of their long lives. Hopefully riveting and adventurous—just as Sandy liked to live.

Her head turned when Marcus suddenly appeared at the entrance of the row. He stood with his brunette hair combed out and falling past his shoulders—his suit a velvety black. He was as handsome as ever.

Sandy hummed, taking her eyes off of him with an almost playful smile on her lips. Marcus slowly ghosted nearer to her, taking an unneeded breath of air—his eyes not saddened for once but rather curious.

He moved even slower than a human, as though to not startle the familiar presence off.

"I sense you, dolcezza," The vampire rasped, "Are you wandering about? You must be a curious soul, indeed," He smiled lightly, so faintly that it was almost invisible as he finally got near her, standing next to her and looking through the section of rows that she in.

Marcus could only sense her presence, he could see nothing: not what she was looking at, not what she was doing, absolutely nothing. And yet, he had the strangest feeling that she was curiously looking through this shelf.

The meeting was over and the Elite Guard had been dismissed.

Both Marcus and Cassandra knew that Aro and Caius were listening from where they sat in the main part of the library, but neither of them dared to interrupt or approach. It had become apparent that—as much as both Caius and Aro hated to admit it—Marcus was the favorite.

The presence was much more likely to stay around longer when it was only Marcus near it.

It was something both were determined to change, but in the current circumstances, such a thing was not easy.

Sandy had to look up slightly to gaze upon Marcus's face. Unfortunately, with her short stature, she only came up to around his chest. It was rather annoying in her mind—what she would give to be tall. Not even tall, but a solid 5'6 would do just fine.

Sadly, she was stuck at 5'1 for the rest of her existence.

"This section is from the Middle Ages, particularly 450 AD to 1000 AD..." Marcus said gently, trying not to show how happy he was with the presence warming up.

Sandy could not help herself from emitting a happy warmth at the words Marcus spoke.

While to her such ages seemed like so long ago seeing as it was nearly a thousand years from before she was even born; to her mates, such times probably felt only a blink away.

She wondered what it was like to live in the Middle Ages. It probably wasn't good—as much as people tried to argue it, the times have only gotten better with each passing year. People became kinder and morals turned tighter.

In the Middle Ages, public execution was more than accepted. Nowadays, in many countries worldwide, such a thing would be considered a crime. The same thing applied for many other horrible acts.

"And what were you doing in 450 AD? Don't tell me you were doing much the same—hiding away and trying to keep yourself occupied. Or perhaps jousting?" Sandy joked, mostly to herself as Marcus could not hear her. "I'm only joking, I know that is around the time you overthrew the Romanians and became the leading coven of the world. The world-power of vampires..." She chuckled at the end, though there was a faraway look on her face. "Not much time for jousting with that going on, I'm sure..."

Their overthrowing of the Romanians is what kick-started her father's great plan. What started the downfall of her life and the official end to her species. Then again, Sandy could only imagine how horrible the world would be if the Volturi had not overthrown the Romanians—the chaos that they would be living with the Romanians taking the lead.

Marcus lifted an arm up, reaching over Sandy's head and pulling a book off the shelf from above her. It was large and leatherbound—very old-looking.

The fae could not help the goosebumps that appeared on her arms and the slight blush that spread over her cheeks. For a second, she envisioned herself leaning back against Marcus's chest. Feeling his rock-hard body against her own soft and warm one.

The things he could do to her—the ways he could make her cry out in pleasure. Without even really trying at that, after all, they all had thousands of years to learn the ways of a woman's body.

She saw herself trapped against the bookcase as Marcus held her up with no effort, driving into her and nipping at her neck.

Purrs and growls emanating from him—coming from deep within his chest as she panted, scratching at his back.

Sandy was quick to shake her head of the thoughts, barely noticing the way that Marcus quirked a brow at the sudden way the mate bond flashed a light pink before disappearing back into its usual magnificent array of golds and purples.

What was that?

The moment was interrupted as Caius appeared feet away from Marcus, his lip curled into a snarl. Aro was next to Caius in the next moment, placing a hand on his shoulder and shaking his head almost exasperatedly.

Out of the three of them: Caius was the fastest vampire. Aro was second fastest with Marcus a close third, but it was rare either of them could beat Caius in a race.

"Brother, I told you to stay at the table," Aro chided in an annoyed manner.

"I don't take orders from you," Caius spat and Aro huffed, but said nothing. "Especially with matters pertaining to a potential mate..."

The truth of the matter was that while they were all leaders: Aro was most certainly the main head of the coven. But even Aro did not need to remind Caius of something he already knew. There would be no Volturi without Aro—even if Caius liked to think he would be able to run the coven himself, his anger and petulance would get him nowhere.

Then again, without Caius, their battles would certainly be less successful—he oversaw all of the Volturi training. If Caius was not around there was a chance that the Volturi may have been overthrown by now. His ruthlessness deters potential rebels and maintains a strict adherence to the Volturi's rules.

Not to mention, in his human years, Caius was one of the most successful generals of the Macedonian army. Such skills only manifested and expanded in his immortal life—Caius was now indeed, the greatest general in the world. 

Marcus was the clear opposite, he provided emotional insight and stability. His ability to sense relationships and bonds between individuals gives them an edge in understanding the dynamics within their own coven and among other vampire groups. Such insight allows them to identify and neutralize potential alliances that could threaten their power.

And, of course, there would be no Volturi without Aro. While his talent certainly helped, it was Aro's ambition and vision for expansion and consolidation of power that kept them going. His charisma and manipulative skills ensured loyalty and fear among their followers and potential threats alike. Aro's desire for knowledge and control kept them ahead of any possible challenges to their authority.

Marcus's generally passive demeanor balances Aro's and Caius's aggressive ambition, offering a more tempered and measured approach to their rule. His presence ensures that decisions are not solely based on ambition but also on the strength and cohesion of their relationships.

It's why the three of them together were so terrifying, why they were so powerful together, and why Sandy was so against ever meeting them.

Marcus glanced at both of his brothers in an annoyed manner. Nevertheless, for ancient feared overlords—when in private—they were still just bickering brothers to each other.

Sandy pursed her lips at the arrival of her other two mates: her heart stopping at all three of them.

"We agreed to not overwhelm—"

"You two agreed, I did no such thing," Caius cut him off. "I, for one, would like to figure out what this presence is. If it is not a mate then it is surely a spy!" He hissed, ever the suspicious and paranoid one.

"Brother," Aro frowned. "Calm yourself, you cannot truly believe..."

Sandy stopped listening to them, rolling her eyes. It had to nearly be morning by now, and even if not, then she figured she got enough sleep.

She would either take her 'drowsy potion' or pass the rest of the very early morning by watching a movie.

Or perhaps she could clean... or paint... or sing... or cook... or even knit! The possibilities were endless—she might even practice ballet. It had been a while, she had taken the last month or two off after practicing every day for almost eight years.

Whatever she did, as long as she was quiet about it, she would be fine. Bella was asleep in her bed next to her. In which case, painting a colorful abstract piece of work seemed like the way to go.

With that, she delivered one last look to her mates before disappearing on the spot. She had become rather adept at waking up on command.

As her spirit traveled from Volterra back to Forks instantly, the fae was waking up to one last echoing sentence in her mind.

"Now look what you've done, Caius! You've offended her and she left!"

————————

Bella Swan had effectively found out that Jacob Black was a wolf-shifter. AKA—werewolf, as she put it. Sandy did not bother to correct her in saying that Jacob Black was no Child of the Moon.

Bella was, of course, upset that Sandy didn't tell her. But Sandy easily rebuked her by hitting her with the question, "You weren't smart enough to figure it out on your own then?"

The good thing about Bella knowing about the Quileute shifters was that it garnered extra protection for her against Victoria. Sandy no longer had to worry about not being enough defense—not that Victoria would realistically stand a chance against her.

Vampires were the only creatures that the typically peaceful fae would not hesitate to destroy. With no guilt, at that. If anything vampires should fear her for her ruthless ways toward their kind.

Nevertheless, it allowed Cassandra to take a weekend trip to Seattle to volunteer for the homeless shelter, orphanage, and animal shelter without fearing for Bella's safety while she was away. She typically did such things every chance she had—she did it a lot in Brazil.

She also did it in Forks, but Forks was small. There was not as big of a homeless population so she typically volunteered at the animal shelter. She and Bella tried to go every Thursday after school.

There was also no orphanage so she tended to donate to various non-profit organizations.

Cassandra had a few of her own that she managed from a distance—she had to do it this way because she started many of these organizations in the early 70s. So according to most: Cassandra was meant to be in her fifties or sixties. It was apparent why she could not show her face to her organizations any longer. As sad as it was.

Perhaps it was time for her to start a few more.

Seattle was experiencing a rare sunny day amid the chilly February, a month the big city was typically covered in clouds.

She was passing around soup, socks, and money to people at the homeless shelter. She had also driven around the city that morning passing around such items and care packages to people who needed it most.

"Thank you so much..." A man thanked her, giving her a toothless smile as he took the warm bowl of soup and thick socks from Sandy.

"Of course, sir," She nodded, delivering a smile and radiating positive energy his way before he turned to leave.

He had been the last person in a long line of people waiting for such commodities. There was a break in the line as people sat around eating and talking with each other. Sandy smiled at the sight.

She was wearing a yellow t-shirt tucked into flare jeans (a pair she had kept since 1977, they were her favorite and still in good condition, okay!), white shoes with her hair blown out in a thicket of curls. Her jacket was sitting on a chair behind the check-in counter, it was warm inside the building. Warm enough for her to ditch her jacket for the time being.

She caught sight of a young girl and her brother playing with each other, and just as she was about to walk over to them in happy greetings—a sound caught her attention. Not specifically a sound, but rather an argument of sorts.

"Please! You can't take my home—please, you need to do something! Anything!" A lady was wailing, three small children cowering behind her as she begged a man who looked at her with a sneer.

They were standing near the entrance, obviously having just walked in. It seemed that they would be in for a night at the homeless shelter.

"You want to skip out on your pay? This is what happens, lady—you're out!" The man barked, sneering down at her. "Evicted!"

Sandy was moving toward them before she could stop herself. She was never good with keeping her nose out of other people's business.

"What's going on? Are you okay, ma'am?" She was by the woman's side in an instant, grabbing her arm in a comforting manner.

She briefly looked at the children, making sure they were okay before staring at the irritated man. The children were frightened but physically safe—if not, a little hungry.

"She hasn't paid rent in months! She's being kicked out!" He said furiously.

"Because you haven't fixed anything—I've made maintenance order after maintenance order. The heating hasn't been working; my children are freezing during the nights, we all need to wear coats to bed!" She cried out.

"Lies! That heater was just fixed last year, it's fine!" He rolled his eyes. "Either way that's not how life works—you don't pay rent, you get kicked out..."

Sandy eyed the human male up and down. He was lying—she knew right away that he was trying to force this woman out of her home. For what, she had no clue, but he was definitely trying to push this innocent woman out.

Sandy wished that she could help this woman, and perhaps she could financially—help her to get on her feet. But of all the things she did, Cassandra was not a lawyer. She would not be able to help this woman in housing court.

But one... one day she would.

Just like one day she would be a ballerina. She would be a doctor. A surfer. A lawyer. A veterinarian. A firefighter. A detective. She would be all of this and more. Because she had the time, she had the patience, and she definitely had the will.

As Isabella Swan so gracefully put it: Cassandra truly was the ultimate real-life Barbie.

But one day was not today, and today, Sandy had to help this woman in any way that she could.

"Come with me, let's get you and your children some warm food..." Cassandra said softly, beginning to lead the woman away with her children. "I can help you... how much do you need for a down payment on a new apartment?"

Cassandra was not Carlisle Cullen rich, but she had her own wealth of money saved up from generations of different careers and lifestyles. It was money that she could use for anything. And in this case, she would use it to help someone in need.

—————————

That night, after a long day of helping those that she could—Sandy crawled into her hotel room bed, freshly out of the shower absolutely exhausted. Her eyes were heavy as she watched a cooking show on the crappy hotel television before the land of dreams pulled her under.

When she opened her eyes, she was standing in the middle of the throne room.

All three leaders sat around a table going at it in an intense game of mahjong.

Aro, with his perpetually curious and animated expression, studied his tiles intently. Marcus, calm and collected, seemed to be in a world of his own, his fingers lightly tapping on the table. Caius, ever the picture of intensity, was focused, his eyes scanning the board for any potential advantage.

Aro broke the silence first, his voice laced with amusement. "I must say, this game has become far more intriguing since the last time we played."

It had only been a few years, sometime in the early 90s, to be exact.

Caius snorted, his eyes never leaving his tiles. "That's because you're finally starting to understand it, Aro. Perhaps in another millennium, you'll be a real challenge."

This was nothing more than game banter, and they knew it. Aro was rather proficient in all games, but chess and mahjong were two of his specialties. Caius was talking out of his ass, he rarely won against Aro.

Unfortunately, when Battleship first came out and the kings chose to entertain themselves with such a scarce game—Caius was proven to be the best at it.

Marcus allowed a faint smile to touch his lips. "Caius, let him have his moment. It's rare enough that we find time for such diversions."

Everyone had noticed it, since the realization that he had a mate out there—Marcus seemed to be filled with some light and hope once again. Something he had not had for centuries. Even Sandy noticed the change in his demeanor, and it took everything in her not to let guilt consume her.

Guilt over the fact that she was avoiding Marcus and the others like the plague.

Aro laughed, a light, musical sound that echoed through the throne room. "You wound me, brother. I assure you, my strategic intellect is quite capable. Just wait and see."

Caius placed a tile down with a decisive click. "We'll see about that. Your overconfidence might be your downfall."

Marcus placed his tile with a graceful, almost absentminded motion. "Careful, Caius. Your competitive streak is showing. Again."

Caius rolled his eyes. "As if yours isn't, Marcus. You just hide it behind that stoic facade."

Aro's eyes gleamed with mischief. "Speaking of facades, Marcus, when was the last time you won a game? I believe the score is rather telling."

Marcus chuckled softly. "I let you two have your fun. Someone has to keep the peace."

Caius smirked. "Peace is overrated. A good game of mahjong should be a battle of wits."

Aro placed his tile with a flourish. "And I intend to win this battle. Prepare yourselves."

They began moving so fast that it was hard for Sandy to keep up with them—any normal human surely would not have been able to. The vampire men were a blur as they moved, they played for a short while.

In the end: Aro won the most rounds followed by Caius and lastly Marcus.

Caius was grumbling at the end as Aro stared back at him almost smugly. Marcus was already putting the game away, the tiles clicking as he did so.

"Did you enjoy watching me win, mia cara?" Aro questioned and Sandy stiffened.

They had felt her presence the entire time. How odd... while they had known she was there, they did not choose to address her until now. Sandy tilted her head but came closer to the three: Caius was oddly silent, looking around with hard eyes.

He was the least welcoming to her warmth.

"Stop talking to it, Aro," Caius rolled his eyes.

Aro pointedly ignored him. "Come to join us on San Valentino?"

It took Sandy a second to connect the thoughts... San Valentino? What day was it?

Of course, it was February 14th. Valentine's Day.

Sandy never did anything for the holiday. This year she planned on hanging out with Bella, they would watch gruesome horror movies as Bella still could not stand romantic movies.

It would appear she was also to unintentionally spend a small portion of the holiday with her mates. How lovely.

She cringed backward at the thought.

"And what did you have planned?" She questioned, not expecting an answer.

Surprisingly, Caius actually gave a rather accurate answer. It was a statement that also answered Sandy's question, spoken completely by chance but coincidentally at the perfect time with Sandy's query.

"I, for one, will be spending the remainder of our time until our next trial with Athenodora," Caius sneered, about to run off to her.

Aro looked at him annoyed. "If myself and Sulpicia are not even planning anything special today, and we are in much better graces than you and Athenodora—how does that make any logical sense, brother?"

Caius did not respond for he was gone in the next second.

Aro frowned at the place he once stood. "He never learns does he?"

Marcus hummed, "He learns after making the mistake a few times, as we have long since known..."

"Yes," Aro sighed in disappointment as he felt the warm presence disappear. "I suppose he does..."