Twilight: Darling of Volturi (YURI/GL)

Jane measured her strength with exquisite precision. Although Sophie’s feet were nearly lifted from the ground, not even the faintest mark appeared around her slender neck. Vampires could not be strangled to death in the first place, and crushing a vampire’s head with a single hand required tremendous physical strength. 

Raw power, however, had never been Jane’s greatest weapon. Compared to most vampires, she was actually weaker in pure strength, having relied on her gift for centuries instead. Even so, she had long since developed a habit whenever she encountered newcomers: before anything else, establish fear. Once fear took root, obedience would naturally follow.

Sophie’s toes barely grazed the floor as she struggled to keep herself balanced. The familiar sensation of fingers closing around her neck instantly awakened memories she wished she could forget. 

Alec had nearly snapped her head from her shoulders once before, and now Jane, whose face was almost identical to his, had wrapped her hand around the very same vulnerable place. Her body reacted before her mind could. Terror seized every muscle. Her breathing caught as instinct overwhelmed reason, and she reached up in panic, both hands grasping Jane’s wrist.

The moment their skin met, Sophie froze.

Jane’s hand, illuminated by the sunlight filtering through the corridor windows, was unexpectedly soft.

Warm.

Almost comforting.

The sensation was utterly different from Aro’s.

Aro’s words could be as elegant and persuasive as poetry, but neither his icy palms nor the invisible pressure hidden beneath his smile could ever truly deceive anyone. His touch carried the unmistakable chill of domination, as though he were already reaching into another person’s soul. Jane, however, was the exact opposite. 

Every sentence she spoke threatened death. 

Every glance carried malice. 

Yet the hand around Sophie’s throat held itself back with surprising restraint, applying only enough force to frighten, never enough to truly hurt. That contradiction quietly soothed the panic raging inside Sophie. The violent trembling subsided, replaced instead by an inexplicable curiosity that rose naturally within her.

Who are you, really?

What do you like?

What do you hate?

What would it take... for you to stop wanting to kill me?

As that thought bloomed, the world around her dissolved without warning.

An enormous tapestry unfurled before her eyes.

She saw a poor, weathered village nestled beneath gray skies. Two beautiful children—Jane and Alec—wore neatly patched homespun clothes, plain but carefully tailored. Then Aro appeared before them. At first, their mother still stood beside the twins, protecting them with gentle hands. 

Later she disappeared. 

Alec awkwardly took over her place, painstakingly learning how to braid Jane’s hair the way their mother once had. Day after day his clumsy fingers grew more skillful, until eventually he could weave perfect braids with practiced ease. Whenever Jane was especially happy, she would smile brightly and reward him with a kiss on the cheek.

The peaceful memory shattered.

A furious crowd surged forward like a black tide.

Rough hands seized the twins.

Coarse ropes bound their small bodies together.

Darkness erupted into a towering inferno.

Flames roared toward the heavens.

Smoke swallowed the sky.

Heat beyond imagination scorched every inch of flesh. Skin blistered and split apart while ash flooded burning lungs. Every breath became agony. Every heartbeat carried another fragment of life away. Pain consumed them inside and out, so absolute that death itself seemed almost merciful.

Then—

Aro appeared once more.

He stepped into hell itself, tore the twins from the flames, and carried them away from death.

The inferno vanished.

They lived.

”What did you do?!”

Jane abruptly released Sophie’s throat and shoved her backward.

The vivid scene collapsed like shattered glass.

Sophie stumbled several steps before barely managing to regain her footing, staring at Jane in bewilderment.

The moment the vision disappeared, so did every sensation it had forced upon her. The suffocating smoke, the unbearable heat, the skin-searing flames, the despair of watching life slip away, all of it vanished in an instant. 

She found herself standing once more in the quiet corridor beside Jane, her racing heartbeat slowly settling. For one horrifying moment, she had truly believed she was burning alive alongside the twins.

”I-I just...”

She instinctively wanted to explain everything she had witnessed.

Jane cut her off before she could continue.

”Listen carefully.” Her expression had darkened considerably. ”I’ll admit you have some talent. Your ability resembles Fabio’s. Both of you manipulate memories. But you’ve already seen what happened to him. He’s nothing more than an outer guard. If the Masters decide he dies, then he dies. The Volturi has no place for mediocrity. Tricks like yours might fool humans, but against vampires they’ll only work for a fleeting moment.”

She paused, her red eyes narrowing.

”Just now, did you alter my memories without my permission?”

Sophie hesitated.

Truthfully, she wasn’t even sure what had happened herself.

This experience had been completely unlike the colored memory threads she had seen before.

When she had touched the threads surrounding Alec or Fabio, she had never witnessed the memories themselves. She had only perceived the threads.

This time was entirely different.

The memory had unfolded into a complete scene.

Not merely images.

Sight.

Sound.

Touch.

Pain.

Even emotion.

Did my Gift evolve?

Did the threads become memories themselves?

Jane’s increasingly dangerous expression reminded her she probably shouldn’t remain silent.

”I’m sorry...” Sophie nodded honestly. ”I couldn’t control it.”

Jane merely let out a cold snort.

Whether she accepted the apology remained impossible to tell.

Moments earlier she had sensed a disturbance within her consciousness and instinctively assumed Sophie had attempted to tamper with her memories. Fortunately, whatever Sophie had done lacked enough power to produce any lasting effect. Since the interference had faded almost immediately, Jane decided not to pursue the matter further.

”For now,” she warned coldly, ”you barely count as one of mine. Throughout the Volturi, besides me, no one has the authority to kill you.”

She deliberately paused before continuing.

”But don’t misunderstand. That protection is temporary.”

Sophie’s eyes brightened instantly.

”Then, how long will I be safe?”

Jane answered without the slightest hint of certainty.

”That depends on our mood.”

The ”our” naturally referred to herself and Aro.

Should either of them change their mind, Sophie’s fragile protection would disappear immediately.

”You need to prove your worth and quickly. A memory trick that restores itself moments later isn’t enough. Make it last longer. Understand? The Volturi accepts only the strong.”

Sophie understood only half of what Jane meant, but one sentence echoed clearly in her mind.

She still had another chance.

Summoning every ounce of courage she possessed, she looked up hopefully.

”Please, let me try one more time.”

Jane gave no verbal answer.

She simply looked back at Sophie.

That silent gaze was permission enough.

Sophie stepped forward slowly.

”I-I think I need to touch you.”

Jane remained perfectly still.

She neither refused nor stepped away.

Encouraged, Sophie gathered her courage. She slowly raised her hand, her fingertips first brushing beneath Jane’s delicate chin before gradually sliding upward until her entire palm rested snugly against Jane’s flawless cheek.

She had dreamed of this since the day they first met.

To personally touch beauty so perfectly matched to her soul.

Beautiful things had always captivated Sophie beyond reason. No matter where she was, no matter when, beauty always drew her closer.

Suppressing the countless distracting thoughts filling her mind, she focused completely on searching for the invisible threads surrounding Jane.

Then...

She found them.

Compared to Alec’s, Jane’s threads were noticeably simpler.

Except for one.

A thread black as the deepest abyss pierced straight through Jane’s heart.

It was so dark that it seemed to absorb every surrounding color.

So dense that it could not be ignored.

So painful that merely looking at it made Sophie’s chest ache.

This...

This is suffering.

Pain rooted so deeply it had become part of Jane’s very existence.

She carried it every day.

She smiled sweetly despite it.

She spoke with charming elegance despite it.

And perhaps because of it, she delighted in making everyone else experience suffering just as unbearable.

So this was the source.

The origin of her cruel fascination with pain.

The reason she reveled in torment.

It all began at the very instant her life as a vampire was born.

Sophie immediately connected that black thread with the memory she had just experienced.

The flames.

The execution.

The day Jane and Alec had nearly burned alive together.

Having personally endured that memory moments ago, Sophie instinctively shared Jane’s pain. Her own heart clenched painfully.

Come on...

Prove your worth.

Show Jane you deserve to stay alive.

Determination filled her eyes.

Reaching toward the thread, Sophie grasped the stubborn strand of darkness with all her concentration. It resisted her completely. She pulled harder. Little by little, the black thread loosened. She carefully twisted it into a tighter bundle before gently weaving it deep among the surrounding pale white threads until the darkness disappeared from sight entirely.

Only then did she slowly lower her hands.

The two of them stood impossibly close.

Their gazes met.

For the first time, the silence between them carried no hostility.

Only an indescribably gentle stillness.

Sophie’s hand slid from Jane’s cheek and came to rest lightly over her chest, exactly where the black thread had once pierced her heart.

”How do you feel now?”

Her voice was soft.

Almost hopeful.

She smiled with innocent anticipation, like a child proudly presenting the result of her hard work.

”Does this place still hurt?”