"You are here. Oh, you do not run away.
You will answer me to the last cry.
Cling to me as though you were frightened.
Even so, at one time a strange shadow ran through your eyes.

Now, now too, little one, you bring me honeysuckle,
and even your breasts smell of it.
While the sad wind goes slaughtering butterflies
I love you, and my happiness bites the plum of your mouth.

How you must have suffered getting accustomed to me,
my savage, solitary soul, my name that sends them all running.
So many times we have seen the morning star burn, kissing our eyes,
and over our heads the gray light unwind in turning fans.

My words rained over you, stroking you.
A long time I have loved the sunned mother-of-pearl of your body.
I go so far as to think that you own the universe.
I will bring you happy flowers from the mountains, bluebells,
dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses.

I want
to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees."

-Pablo Neruda, Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair

AN: This story will contain large amounts of fluff with an eventual HEA, however it also deals with difficult themes, including domestic violence, sexual assault, recovery, and character death, which will cause quite a bit of angst before we get to the HEA. There won't be explicit scenes of violence but be warned if you know these things trigger you. It also has a bit of a slow start because my OC is in pretty rough shape but there's a hot dominant Greek man making it worth the wait and there's quite a bit of smut starting at chapter 13.

The Marcus in my story was changed in his late 20's, rather than the old guy in the movie. The Volturi don't have papery skin or milky eyes because I don't find the thought of that attractive, however they will be slightly different from your average vampire…

A lot of the plot is inspired by other stories I have read on here, as well as from the Twilight saga itself, since that's just how the story played out in my head. I don't mean any copyright infringement and am not making any money off of this.

As she lay in a puddle of her own blood, she knew she was dying. How many times before had she been covered in blood, both her own and that of others? She had lost count. But this time was different. She could tell by the coldness settling deeply inside of her while her warmth leaked out through the wounds covering her body. This was the end. She didn't know she even had the capacity to feel anything anymore, but suddenly she was awash in ambivalence.

Her suffering would finally be over. Years and years of suffering she had endured and wished for any sort of reprieve from and now it was granted. But at the same time, it felt so wrong that it should end like this with such pain. Should there not have been more beauty? More love? She had seen the world, had tasted it, smelled it, loved it, and she had been so sure that there was goodness left in it - that perhaps there was something better destined for her. She felt it in her heart, and had been so sure of it.

It was a hope she had kept harbored deep inside of her, only drawing upon it when she was most desperate. It was a dangerous hope, capable of ripping away everything she had carefully preserved. But it was hers. The last part of her no one had been able to steal or defile.

Her lungs were rattling with every breath from the pneumonia that had set in days ago. She was certain a few ribs were broken as well, and almost certainly a fractured skull and leg… and this was how she would die. This was the grand finale her entire life had led up to. It was almost anticlimactic, really – she had avoided being shot numerous times, lived in war torn countries, surrounded herself with infectious diseases and poverty, lost her entire family, endured too many injuries inflicted on her to remember – many of which were worse than this. She had survived it all. But this was the end… a few well placed fists and a quick trip down the stairs.

She heard the door to the apartment swing open and slam against the wall but couldn't bring herself to care. If he was back, she was already too far gone. It was too late; there was no saving her now, and any more pain inflicted on her would be fleeting. Her vision was already fading around the edges and the last thing she saw before it all went dark was an angel crouching above her and cradling her face between two large hands. As soon as she met his black eyes, she knew she had been waiting for him her entire life.

He had been travelling with Felix and Demitri down a side street of Rome at twilight, having finished conducting a business meeting, when he smelled it. In all his years, he could not recall feeling such a thing before. It was immediate, visceral, and somehow even more compelling than the blood lust he remembered in his newborn years.

And yet, rather than craving destruction and satiation, the scent of her blood cause him to need to find and protect her – this female, his mate, whoever she was - at all costs. He was compelled toward her like a magnet, helpless against the poles of the earth that drew upon the very essence of his being.

He saw a bond spring from her and imbed itself in him as firmly as he saw in the mate bonds between his brothers and sisters, although at the time he paid no mind to it. He didn't have time to examine it as he otherwise would have done. He was too focused on the rage and terror the scent of her blood had sparked in him, and the indescribable draw compelling him towards her. He followed it mindlessly. Looking back, he could not recall how he had even found the building she was in. But it took him mere fractions of seconds to find the emergency stairwell and race up the floors to the top floor where he could smell her scent the strongest.

The scent of her anguish and suffering permeated the hall outside the lone apartment on the penthouse floor. He forced the door open and was suddenly standing in front of her. She was lying in a puddle of her own blood in front of a staircase which she had obviously fallen down from the blood smeared on the stairs and wall. Her beauty momentarily dazed him as they locked eyes but then, too soon, they fluttered closed and the terror once again ripped through his chest. He had to save her. He heard Felix and Demitri behind him and snarled at them in warning, acting entirely on instincts and not wanting either of them near his fragile mate. They stopped where they were immediately, moving slowly toward the door.

"Master," he heard one say hesitantly, although he did not bother to notice which one. "Who is she?"

He snarled again in aggravation and ignored the question before carefully picking up his unconscious mate. "Send for my brothers immediately."

"Explain the meaning of this," Caius growled lowly while staring at the human in his brother's bed. She was covered in bruises and attached to many machines monitoring every paltry human function. A blood transfusion and other fluids attached to one fragile vein, making his nose wrinkle in disgust.

"Calmly, brother," Aro chided and held out his hand toward the brother who was still drenched in the blood of the human and standing at her bedside, looking awestruck. "Marcus, may I?"

Marcus obligingly held out his hand toward Aro, not bothering to break eye contact with the female in front of him. A few moments later a grin overtook Aro's face in response to what he saw.

"Why, this is marvelous! After all this time, you have finally found your mate!"

Caius gaped at both of them. "Surely you are joking!"

"Not at all, Caius. This human is my mate. I am certain of it," Marcus responded with a weight in his voice, the likes of which none had heard from him in millennia. He had been stagnant and unmoved for so long, none of them quite new how to respond.

"This is excellent news! It calls for a celebration," Aro clapped his hands together in delight. Despite her state of unconsciousness, the girl in the bed whimpered and flinched in on herself in response to the sudden loud noise. She was prevented from turning on her side the way she seemed to want to do by the machines she was attached to and the bulky cast on one leg.

Marcus snapped his head back to his brother and snarled at him, making her flinch once again. "Be quiet! Do not disturb her."

At the sound of his raised voice, she seemed to relax, turning her face toward him, as if unconsciously seeking him out. Both Caius and Aro watched, speculating, as their brother shifted closer to her in response, hesitantly seeking out her hand. She calmed even further at his touch, once again falling back into a peaceful, undisturbed slumber.

"My apologies, brother. I did not mean any harm."

He did not respond, and Aro continued.

"I wonder whether you would permit me to take her hand," he asked cautiously. Marcus growled quietly in response, acting entirely on his natural impulses which insisted he defend her.

"You may ask her when she wakes. After I have explained everything to her."

Aro nodded in understanding. Although Marcus knew he was disappointed, he also knew he would respect his request.

"Of course. Have you any idea how you will tell her? Humans these days do not believe in the supernatural anymore. She may not take to the news well."

Marcus frowned, staring at her face. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen and he did not want to frighten or upset her. He shook his head slightly in response.

Anna awoke to warm, unfamiliar light and voices. She blinked blearily, trying to process where she was, but her thoughts were sluggish and slow. Wherever it was, it looked to be very old. Everything was dated, almost ancient - the room had oak paneling on the walls. The dark four-poster bed she was in was very large and had red velvet drapes surrounding it. And yet she was attached to an IV and ECG machine and had a cannula for oxygen in her nose. Her leg seemed to be in a cast and her ribs were bound tightly to prevent movement.

Before she could examine further, her attention was diverted to where she heard the voices coming from. There was a group of three men and two women standing near an ornate stone fireplace on the other end of the room, seemingly arguing about something. She could not make out what they were saying, other than a few words that took her mind a few moments to realize were Latin.

"Where am I?"

Her voice was hoarse and barely louder than a whisper from misuse, however they seemed to hear and understand her. Quicker than should be possible, they were suddenly grouped around her bedside. She could tell she must have sustained a head injury, as they also seemed to be almost glowing in the soft light and their features were exquisite.

A gasp was ripped from her throat as once again, quicker than her eyes could see, one of them knelt in front of her. It took her another moment to realize it was the angel she thought she had seen from before. His beauty and the graceful fluidity of his movements stunned her and she felt inexplicably drawn to him. She was sure if she hadn't been in bed with several broken bones she would've been reaching out to him, hardly able to resist his spell. Surely this creature could not be real…. she must be dead. But if she was dead, why did everything hurt so much? Before she could continue on this train of thought, he spoke. His voice was the smoothest, deepest, most calming thing she had ever heard, with a rich accent she couldn't place.

"You are in Volterra, dear one," he answered.

"What am I doing here?"

Her angel's face darkened and he started growling in response to the fear obvious in his mate's tone, a feral inhuman sound, and she felt a shiver of primal fear travel up her spine. But as soon as she felt it, suddenly he stopped and reached for her hand.

"Please, piccola. Do not fear. I will tell you all you need to know, but you need to sleep now. Rest and allow your body the rest it needs to heal from your injuries. We will talk when you awaken."

She wasn't sure whether it was his soothing voice or if the movement she saw out of the corner of her eye was someone fiddling with her IV, but she felt herself being pulled back into her slumber.

Marcus watched her eyes flutter back closed and wished desperately he could see them again. They were the most beautiful things he had ever seen in his entire existence. Surely they would awe mere humans, but he saw them for every minute perfection. His eyesight allowed him to see the yellow-gold flecks in the green, darker toward the outside and lighter toward her iris. They were a galaxy of colour and pattern and they almost completely distracted him from the distress he felt at seeing his mate so damaged and in such pain.

He had checked his bond sight and hers were all a mess, apart from the one connecting her to him. They all seemed to have been severed and healed badly, except for one that looked as if it were almost a noose around her, extending from another that was tinged with pain and hatred. The question pulled at him – what had happened to his little mate?

Caius kept quiet after the exchange he had witnessed. He could not deny that this human intrigued him. She seemed to have a great fortitude, barely flinching in their presence when her instincts should've told her to flee, however she was still human, which made him naturally averse. She was their natural food source, after all. Why had his brother not changed her by now? When he had found his mate she had been changed almost immediately, only pausing to bring her to a safe area for the days the change took, and she wasn't even nearly as damaged as this human was. He frowned.

Aro noticed both of his brother's different expressions and held his hand toward his Caius with a quirk of his eyebrow. When he took it and saw his thought processes, he nodded sagely. "You have a point, brother."

"What is it, my love," Sulpicia questioned, laying her hand on his arm.

"Caius is wondering why Marcus has not changed her yet, especially given her current state of injury."

"Nor will I do so until I have her permission," Marcus replied, almost sharply, assuring them of his feelings on the matter.

Aro understood this perspective as well; after all, he had not changed his Sulpicia until he had her permission either. It would be an invasion to do so without their consent. He understood that, however neither him nor Marcus were nearly as adverse toward humans as Caius was. He found himself endlessly intrigued by them, whereas Marcus was more indifferent.

"Marcus," Sulpicia addressed him softly. "If you are to wait, I would advise you to move more slowly, as to not frighten her with your strength. She will likely be frightened enough when learning of your nature. And speak softly to her, I fear your growling may have frightened her." she advised him. "You have not spent much time around humans in many years. It may take practice."

"Thank you for your advice, sister. You are correct, as always," he said with a twitch of his lips.

She smiled. "Anything for you, Marcus. I, too, remember the fear I felt as a human when faced with our kind. I will do anything I can to help her. She is my sister now as well."

She slowly leaned down as to not upset Marcus and lightly kissed the girl on the forehead before leaving. The rest followed, leaving Marcus with his mate.

He watched as a nurse switched the bag of saline attached to his mate's vein, providing her with hydration to keep her alive. Another machine monitored her pulse, which stayed low and steady – a good sign, the doctor assured him. It was strong and sure, although to him it sounded as delicate as the fluttering of a moth's wings.

Even with the human nurse so near, he barely felt the pull of bloodlust, though he knew it was likely months since he fed – perhaps even a year? They needed less feeding as they grew older, him even less so than his brothers and sisters, as blood had long ago lost its appeal in his own melancholy. He had been alone so long. Waiting for her, wishing for a mate of his own. He had almost given up hope, especially after the loss of Didyme. She had been a good wife. He thought he must have done something to anger the gods to withhold his mate, although he could barely even remember the feelings of loneliness and resentment now, faced with his mate in front of him. The brightness of her outshone everything else in his life.

Even sickly and weak and unconscious, she was the most beautiful blessing he could've imagined in all his long years. Her hair was long and wont to curl, while her lips pouted and pursed while she dreamt… how he longed to taste them. Her nose was straight, her skin clear and creamy. Her figure, while obscured beneath the sheet and emaciated, promised lush curves with generous hips for him to hold and ample breasts he longed to taste. And her eyes… how he remembered the beautiful colour of her eyes, as deep and untamed as the sea, looking straight into him as if she saw his very soul.

He wondered how he could have ever doubted the gods will, when faced with the perfection before him.

The next time Anna awoke her head was slightly clearer and she only had an IV in her arm. The light was still dim and she noticed there were heavy red velvet drapes covering the windows. The only light in the room came from a fire and a few candles spaced throughout the room, making her unable to discern whether it was night or day.

The handsome dark haired man who she presumed was the one who brought her here was the only one in the room this time. He was sitting beside the bed in an antique looking straight back wooden chair with a large, old tome in his hands. She was once again stunned by how handsome he was. He seemed to sense she was awake and looked up.

"Ah, you are awake. I am glad. You have been asleep a long time."

She swallowed, suddenly aware by her lack of saliva. Her throat contracted uncomfortably with the dryness tightening it. How long had she been sleeping? Her mouth felt as if it had been parched for days.

"Water… please," was all she could croak out. He immediately got up and she noticed he moved at a normal pace to get her a glass of water from a pitcher on a dressing table, reassuring her that all the strange things she remembered about unnatural speed to be a figment of her fever and concussion. Although he still moved more gracefully than she thought to be fair for a man of his size.

She had not seen many men taller or broader than he was, and he carried himself in a way that made his strength obvious. For some reason it only made him more attractive to her, rather than more of a danger as she knew it should have. He would certainly be more than capable of doing her a lot of damage.

As soon as he came back with the water she eagerly reached for it, moving to drain the glass quickly. She was stopped by a hand on her arm, causing her to flinch.

"Drink slower, dear one, you have not eaten or had much to drink recently. I would not want to upset your stomach."

She nodded guardedly at him, acknowledging the wisdom of his words. Once she was done, she looked back to find him back sitting in the chair, watching her as if she was the most interesting thing in the world. She shifted uncomfortably at the scrutiny and attempted to sit up, taking a deep breath against the pain she knew would follow. As soon as she started moving, however, he reached out to stop her again. She immediately settled back down, partially wanting to appease him but mostly acting on instinct, not wanting him to touch her again because she knew pain always followed touching.

"You are still healing. Please don't distress your injuries, cara mia," he said gently.

She eyed him wearily; suddenly very aware of the vulnerable position she was in. Despite feeling so at ease with this man, which was uncomfortable in itself for her, she was also all too aware of the dangers of letting her guard down around others. She had spent the last year learning that particular lesson.

He seemed to realize she was suddenly suspicious and leaned back in his chair, a look of something akin to hurt crossing over his face so quickly she almost didn't catch it.

"Why am I here? What do you want with me? Where is Joseph?"

She knew she was being rude, demanding these things of this man who had been nothing but gracious to her so far, but she was uncomfortably aware of the peculiarity of this situation, as well as the danger of it. He saw a look of horror pass over her face suddenly and all the blood drained from it as she asked, "And how long have I been here?"

He easily answered that question, whereas the other left him eying her speculatively.

"You have been here for six days."

She inhaled sharply. "Six days?"

He raised one perfect eyebrow, unsure how to react to her demanding questions. "Indeed. You were very ill. The doctor kept you in a coma for many days to allow your brain injuries time to heal."

"A coma? Shouldn't I be in an ICU? What is this place?"

"The doctor assured me you would be cared for here. This is my home."

"Your home? Why am I here? Do you work with Joseph? Where is he?"

Her wariness suddenly escalated and she was now petrified, bordering on full-blown panic. If Joseph found out she was in another man's home without him, he would kill both of them.

"Cara mia, please be calm. I do not know this Joseph but there is no need to panic. You are safe. Do not fear me," he seemed to be pleading with her. Everything in her wanted to trust him for reasons she couldn't fathom, however she couldn't allow herself that. She needed to get out of here. She didn't know where she could go that Joseph wouldn't find her, or if he had found her already and was just biding his time. But she knew she couldn't stay here. What if he was testing her and wanted to see what she would do with another man? A slight strangled whimper came from her throat as she saw the man reach for her again and, without a second thought, her heart racing so fast it felt as if it would burst from her chest, she fainted.

He watched his beautiful mate suddenly become panicked and didn't know what to do to calm her, nor what had caused it. She had gone from confused and worried to pure fear almost instantly as soon as he told her she was in the castle. And then as quickly as it had started, it stopped when he had reached out to touch her hand to try and sooth her, as his instincts demanded him to do.

"Piccola?" he asked softly. She didn't respond, she did not smell asleep, and yet her eyes were closed and her breathing had evened out. He was utterly confounded and scared for his small mate. Had the injuries to her brain damaged it without the doctor knowing?

"Aro," he called out softly, loud enough that he would hear him, but just under the human hearing range. His brother was at his side almost instantly.

"I don't know what happened. She was asking questions and as soon as I told her she was in our home, this happened. She is unresponsive. I am unsure about what to do. Is it possible her injuries damaged her brain?"

Aro frowned. "I am not sure… perhaps she swooned? Humans are such delicate creatures." He seemed to be contemplating something. "I know you requested I wait until I have her permission but perhaps you would allow me to read her now? It may shed some light on this mysterious situation."

Marcus didn't want to invade his mate's privacy, however he desperately needed answers, so he nodded once, uncertainly, at his brother. Aro slowly made his way forward, not wanting to cause offence to what he knew was a volatile vampire protecting its injured mate.

He lightly grasped her hand, closing his eyes for a moment. Marcus watched his face. Usually it took Aro no more than a second to absorb and see all the information he needed, however after a second, his brow furrowed and he took on a look of concentration. After five seconds, which felt like an eternity to Marcus, he opened he eyes back to his brother.

"She is gifted," he said in awe. "I've never seen anything like this before. It's as if she has screened what I see, showing only trivial things clearly. The rest is out of focus and blurred together."

Marcus was shocked, and he looked back at the unassuming girl in the bed. "What were you able to make out?"

"Her name is Anna and has only been in Italy for a few years, from what I can tell. The rest I cannot understand without clarification."

Marcus frowned, his concern for his mate growing even more insistent. He was thankful he had many millennia of practice keeping his face devoid of emotion. "Do you think we should summon the doctor?"

Aro considered. "She does not seem ill. This seems to be more of a fear response. Bringing more strangers to her bedside would likely make her even more frightened. I would not risk further injury either, though…"

Marcus nodded in understanding.

"I will find more of what I can about your mate Marcus, with your permission. I know you requested we wait until she awakened, as to not invade her privacy, however I believe it would be beneficial to better understand what is going on."

Marcus sighed and acquiesced. "Perhaps you may be correct."

Aro frowned in front of the computer. He was still not comfortable with it, though Sulpicia made sure they were kept up to date with the latest technologies. However that was not what was making him agitated this time. Rather, he did not like what he was finding on it.

The Volturi, of course, had access to much more information than the general public, so finding the origins of their mysterious guest was not too difficult. As they had deduced by her accent she was born in the state of New York in the United States, however her family was all reported dead. She was a doctor – a child prodigy, apparently. Head of her class in one of the highest ranking schools in the world. And yet she had chosen to do her residency in Nigeria of all places. And that was where the paper trail ended. It was reported she was kidnapped. Human trafficking was suspected, but she was never found. And all this time she had been in an apartment in Rome? What a peculiar situation they had found themselves in. Fortuna was truly having a good time toying with them.