Paul dodged an attack aimed at his ribcage by lunging forward at his opponent. He was successful in grazing hard flesh, the weight of his bite force being enough to break through skin. A sharp wince was followed by another attempted jab which was thwarted by a well-timed swipe of his claw. Both people jumped backward to give themselves a short chance to regroup before continuing a long, daunting battle.

Truth be told, Paul felt conflicted about the pack's decision of fighting to kill. It wasn't because he had an epiphany and suddenly changed sides or felt bad for the coven of leeches.

His hesitancy to engage had to do with his missing husband.

Marshall wasn't around to give his opinion on what should happen to the people he used to call family. Seeing as they were the ones who hurt, scarred, and betrayed him the most, it was only fair to allow him a final say in how their lives either continued or ended.

But he still hadn't shown up.

A part of Paul was actually worried Marshall might've been ambushed since the Cullens planned a distraction earlier to go hunt on Quileute land. Of course, Paul had complete faith in his imprint's ability to hold his own in a battle. Going against Carlisle and Esme, however, no matter how strained their relationship, would've been a difficult confrontation to deal with for Marshall in terms of personal attachments.

Because even though he swore up and down that his feelings for his old coven mates were all negative, Paul was observant.

He could tell Marshall still cared about his parental figures to a certain extent. It's just their decision to constantly throw him under the bus, coupled with choosing their other children over him, made hatred grow in the rotting traces of dying love. Any remnants in his heart which clung to a warped view of their father-mother-son dynamic constantly tried to blind him of all the wrong choices they made in the past. 

Marshall knew Esme and Carlisle were imperfect people. They were just as awful as the other Cullens. But his innermost desire was to, hopefully, see them turn a new leaf.

At least, that was all before Bella got pregnant.

Either way, Paul didn't think it was right to attack his in-laws when doing so could potentially hurt Marshall.

He would decide their fates when he showed up.

For now, the best course of action was to-

Paul let out a sharp cry as he was pushed to the ground. A long, burning gash had been torn into him while his mind was occupied. The scratch itself was thin, but blood was beginning to run down his fur from his shoulder, down his ribs, and stopped right above his hip. Fortunately, there weren't any teeth marks seen, so the injury didn't put him in danger of being poisoned.

Another whimper escaped him when a heavy foot stomped down on his side. Inhuman strength was used to give a silent threat: comply or be killed.

Edward looked down at his opponent with a smug grin.

His expression alone shed light on how he planned to make the next few minutes as torturous as possible. Simply because he felt like it.

Esme tried to intervene by walking forward. "Edward, don't! The wolves may be our enemies right now, but we can't kill them! They're just trying to protect the townspeople! They're following the rules put in place by the treaty- we can't just decide to go against it-"

"Who cares about the treaty?" Edward added more weight to his foot, Paul whining in protest. "It's not like it matters anymore. Everything's changed. We have other wolves guarding our family, you guys went hunting in their territory, I've already done what was necessary to try and save Bella. At the end of the day, a flimsy little sheet of paper and rule book isn't going to stop me from doing what I have to do. And if that means killing the wolves, so be it. They're just mere obstacles."

Several vampires froze in their spots. Hearing a bold declaration like that from Edward was more than surprising. 

He'd always been protective of those he cared about. Still, it wouldn't be the first time where he decided to follow his own path for the sake of achieving his own goals. Such an ordeal happened early on, after his transformation, when he yearned to taste human blood. Carlisle was a hurdle standing in the way of personal satisfaction. So Edward did what he saw fit by abandoning his coven for a short period of time.

Now, because Bella's chances of survival were basically zero, any form of humanity Edward considered holding onto had vanished.

He wasn't fighting because he wanted to protect his family or his newly born daughter. Edward was fighting because he finally had an excuse to do away with his greatest enemies.

All other members, aside from Carlisle and Esme, nodded to one another, deciding to follow in their brother's footsteps in solidarity by harming to kill.

A certain trio of wolves found themselves backing away from those they'd recently sworn to guard.

It seemed Marshall had been right about them after all.

"Stop- you can't!" Carlisle interjected. "If you do something to Paul, Marsh will-"

"Oh, please. He's always spewing how I'm not strong enough to protect my mate, yet here he is not even standing beside his pack in a life or death situation. If something happens to Paul, it'll be Marsh's fault. It serves him right, anyway. This'll be his consequence for choosing to turn his back on his actual family to be loyal to a pack of dogs. It's what he deserves for going against us-"

Edward was interrupted by an uprooted tree getting launched directly at him. He was pushed toward the house, skidding along moist dirt and bumping into a stair ledge.

Before anyone had a chance to help him up, a small flame coming alight in the forest got their attention. Orange, yellow, and red fire danced in mid air, flickering with a faint breeze. A quick snapping sound cued for the flames to grow in intensity, heat, and power. A tiny ball extended outward to create a smoldering circle around the Cullen estate. The blazing inferno, as if fueled by rage, shot upward, towering above the house itself.

A group of abnormally large blue feathers shot out of the ground. Each one was jagged, pointy, and shined like an army of diamonds. Their serrated tips were aimed at the Cullens, effectively separating them from all of the wolves—Seth, Leah, and Jake included.

"What in the... What the hell is going on-"

Edward's statement was cut off again by his own grunt in pain. 

Something thick, thorny, and malleable wrapped around his wrists and ankles. He looked down to see a series of vines snaking along his body with ease. They forced his arms inward, tying them down to his torso to keep them from moving.

Yells and panicked shouts pointed to his family members experiencing a similar situation.

Sucking his teeth, Edward tugged at the vines to make them give way. When they didn't respond to his gestures, he used more of his enhanced strength. Each plant continued to hold without issue. Jerking movements were utilized in an attempt to shimmy his way out of his bindings; but, again, to his shock, every action done wasn't strong enough to free him of a slowly tightening grasp.

They were just vines—why was it so difficult to break them-

A crunching twig came from behind a nearby tree.

All heads turned to face the source.

Surrounding fire gave enough added illumination to reveal a large mass. An inky silhouette skulked forward with its head tilted at an angle. Wavy strands of hair curled right above one shoulder. Lax hands pulled into tight, strong fists. Leisure strides were taken with undisturbed confidence despite walking toward a scene only capable of being described as Hell on Earth.

Each step forward revealed specific features: black combat boots with purple laces, dark gray jeans with rips in the lower legs, a short sleeved black V-neck, hands with colorful tattoos, defined arms with several missing traces of permanent art, a silky band with a silver pawprint pendant, black hair.

All of the Cullens took a step back when coming face to face with a familiar person now adorning a pair of dark, ruby-tinted eyes instead of a normal, signature golden hue.

Rejecting vegetarianism was his most extreme proclamation to date.

He really wasn't on their side anymore.

They'd actually lost him.

"Marsh..?"

The man in question broke through the treeline, expressionless, without saying a word.

Marshall glared at his previous family for all of a second. Then, with a sharp exhale, he focused on a patch of red staining silver fur. 

He moved past his brethren with faint nods in greeting. He knelt down on one knee when getting to a specific wolf whose injury hadn't finished healing yet. Surrounding blood had already cooled and was thick enough to drip. Slender fingers grazed the wound in a caring manner, trying to help alleviate any pain by numbing it with his natural freezing temperature. 

"How badly are you injured."

His question was more a demand for answers.

Paul knew better than to play down anything he was feeling. 'It's painful but not too bad. My ribs might be bruised- I'm not sure. Everything should be fine in a couple minutes, though. I promise, I'm okay.'

"Mm..."

Marshall kept his gaze on his husband's wound.

His free hand was brought up, rising above his shoulder. 

A single flick of his pointer finger was followed by a guttural, agonized scream.

Additional vines shot out of Edward's body. Cracks emanated from a menacing laceration traveling down his entire torso. Violent yanks from each plant caused his flesh to part in a way which gave no room for future healing.  They were careful to not deal any fatal injuries, though, since their initial attack was supposed to make a declaration.

"Ah! Marsh- you-"

"Count yourself lucky Paul's injuries aren't worse. I'm only returning the favor. You would've been split into several pieces by now had you done any real damage."

A nonchalant wave brought every Cullen member to their knees, arms still bound with no way for them to protect themselves.

"How- how are you doing this-"

"Do you honestly think I've ever actually fought any of you with my true strength in the past?" Marshall rubbed his bloody fingertips together, inspecting a vibrant splotch left behind. "Hm, how naive. It's always good to have an ace up your sleeve. Especially when you're living with a family who could betray you at any moment. I couldn't just leave myself open and vulnerable. I had to make sure I had a means to...deal with my own issues if the time ever came for it."

"So...you've been holding back your abilities? For all these years?"

"Certainly came in handy to do so."

Edward spat out an excess of venom which began to pool in his throat. "How could you be so dishonest with us? Why would you even consider going against us? Why are you suddenly deciding to reveal everything now, you traitor?!"

"...I warned you, didn't I? I said if any of you crossed my path again, I'd be the last thing you ever see."

Marshall slowly rose to his feet. He turned to face his old coven mates. An expression of impassiveness had morphed into something...much more unsettling.

Blood-red eyes sparkled beneath pale moonlight. Delicate laugh lines came to life along with a small, teasing smirk. His widening smile revealed a plethora of pristine white teeth. Natural fangs appeared sharper than normal, surrounding the vampire with an aura of murderous intent.

Being in his presence had never felt more dangerous.

"Marsh-"

"'It's what he deserves for going against us,' huh? So, by your logic, it's more than fine if I kill you since we're on opposing sides. It's actually expected, rather, by Edward's ideology. And since you purposely targeted my mate, it's only fair for me to do the same. Aw, but, then again, you already beat me to the punch. Didn't you, Eddie?"

Edward struggled against his bindings. His anger only heightened when all of his restraints squeezed his limbs even tighter, tearing more gashes into his body. Cracks started racing above his wrists toward both elbows. Fractured skin became more and more broken with each attempt at trying to free himself.

Marshall huffed at such a pitiful sight.

"What, upset that I'm calling you out for being the reason your wife died? Or are you upset because you know it's true?"

"Go to Hell!" Edward shouted, spit flying out of his mouth. "I'll teach you a lesson for trying to mock me-"

"You know, you've always had this God-awful superiority complex. Always thinking you're above and better than everyone else. But look at you now, practically writhing and sniveling before me. Someone like you deserves to grovel on their knees..."

Marshall's grin vanished completely. His eyes widened by a small margin.

"So, kneel."

The back of Edward's head was grabbed. His body followed suit as his face was pushed into the ground with horrifying intensity. Making contact with concrete steps caused gravel and dust to shoot outward.

Broken stone led to a wide crater where his body lie half submerged in the earth.

"Marshall, please- this- this isn't you!" Esme cried out. "Please, don't make us fight you. Don't make us do something we'll regret. We're already witnessing our greatest one by seeing how fractured our family has become-"

A quiet snicker bled into a genuine laughing fit. "Is that right? How exactly do you plan on defending yourselves against me when you can't even stand? When I can, quite literally, rip you to pieces without even putting my hands on you. And don't even get me started on you being regretful. You didn't seem to hold any regrets when you continuously pushed me to the curb like I didn't fucking matter. 

"I think you're finally lamenting the fact that you can't take anything back. Because now, you've made me an enemy. Because you know I'm a threat. The only reason any of you regret abusing me is because the tables have finally turned, and now I have a say in how all this ends."

Marshall caught Alice staring into space for a moment. Whatever vision she had only lasted about five seconds. Rapid blinks were silent indications of her coming to. She held back a frightened gasp, instead choosing to quietly gawk at the man standing above her family members.

Alice understood, no matter how much anyone fought back, everyone's futures were now sealed.

And Marshall held the most important playing card.

He chuckled at the revelation. "Because I don't feel like dragging this out too long, I say we begin with the biggest problem."

Edward was pulled up by his hair. He was forced into a kneeling position and had nowhere to look except at his brother's feet.

"Let's start with the son of a bitch who loves to hear himself talk, yeah? Since you want to mouth off so much, go ahead. Beg me not to kill you. If you do a good job, maybe I'll spare your miserable life."

"You sadistic bastard-"

Edward's face was crushed against concrete for a second time.

"Perhaps I'm not making myself clear enough."

He was pulled into a kneeling position again. This time, a second hand grabbed him by the jaw with brute strength.

Marshall reveled in the fear he could see building within his brother's gaze. "I literally hold your life in my hands as we speak. Every little thing you say is either a step taken away or a step closer to your own demise. My patience is wearing thin, though, and any generosity I've ever had toward you is nonexistent now. So you better make sure you choose your next words wisely. Or else they'll be your very last."

Edward's lips parted in uncertainty.

Peering into red irises, there was no trace of the man he used to call brother. There was no trace of kindness, fondness, or endearment. There was no familiarity within a cold gaze which burned into his very being. Every decision—every word Edward ever spoke into existence was being laid out and judged right before him.

If this turned out to be his last night alive, though, he wasn't about to take his death sitting still.

"No- you know what? I've had it with you! You think you can just waltz up to us and do whatever you want? You think I should be afraid of you? You think I should feel bad about the things that have happened to you? Well, guess what? I don't! I'm not going to filter myself just to please someone like you!

"You're right- you're not part of our family, and you never were! You were always an outsider who never fit in with the rest of us! You were a constant reminder on how perfection is always marred by the ugliest of flaws! We only kept you around because it was convenient! Do you honestly believe we would've done so otherwise?!"

The more Edward spoke, the more Marshall's expression fell into a cold, unreadable one.

He wasn't smiling or frowning. He wasn't showing any signs of anger. The only thing he did was watch.

Simmering.

"Carlisle should've never turned you! He would've done us- hell, he would've done the entire world a favor if he'd just let you d-"

Marshall's vision filled with red.

One moment, Edward was held in a tight grasp.

The next, his severed head and slumped body were on the ground, lifeless.

Marshall continued to stare, feeling as if he wasn't actually in control of himself.

Vines holding everyone hostage disappeared from sight. Inner restraints forcing them to kneel dispersed as well.

As soon as they realized they could move again, Emmett, Alice, and Jasper dove toward their brother with the intent to kill him.

A single hand was put up, engulfing all three vampires in a blazing inferno.

Screams were short-lived. As were flails in agony. Spastic convulsions were followed by a combustion of sparkling ash.

Edward's remains were enveloped, turning him into a smoking pile of residue.

A menacing circle of fire surrounding the Cullen household disappeared. Knife-like feathers keeping both sides away from each other withdrew into the ground before returning to their rightful place on Marshall's body.

Focus was brought onto his old residency.

Within the blink of an eye, he went from standing near the street to standing on a balcony. Glass doors flung inward. They flew off of their hinges and smacked against a wall. Large shards fell to the floor and down several steps.

Fast breathing came from a room at the end of the hall.

Marshall took his time getting there. His eyes scoured along walls filled with a plethora of frames. Captured memories of his coven mates were plastered in front of him. Smiling faces were caught during graduations, hunting trips, parties; or during mundane activities like playing chess, sitting with a book, and watching television. Every picture depicted a closely knit family who adored being in each other's company.

Marshall wasn't in any of those photos.

Clenching his jaw, he entered the family room where his target was.

Rosalie was huddled against a back wall with a curious baby held firmly against her chest.

Marshall made his way toward them with a single goal in mind.

Clumsy feet were heard behind him. "Marsh, stop!"

Jacob's grating voice was ignored.

"Please, I'm begging you! Renesmee is innocent- she won't hurt anyone!"

Again, his request was met with silence.

"Marsh, please- she's my imprint!"

Rosalie was pinned against the wall by her throat.

Renesmee was stolen from her aunt, only to be cradled in a delicate hold by her uncle.

"Marsh-"

"Take her, and get out."

Jacob scrambled to do as told. His warm fingers left residual heat when making contact with colder skin. Both palms were steady when holding onto the swaddled infant, careful to not jostle her.

The previous Hale siblings gawked at each other until retreating footsteps faded into nothing.

Marshall let out a short breath through his nose. "It's crazy. Life ended with the two of us when we were human, and it's doing so again as vampires. Only this time, I'm not dying for you."

"You're a monster!" Rosalie shouted. "You killed Emmett! You killed our siblings!"

"And I'm about to get rid of one more."

"How- how could you do this to your own flesh and blood?!"

Marshall twitched, his calm composure beginning to crack. "My own flesh and blood? Funny how that was never an argument made on my behalf whenever I was hurting. Funny how you never stood beside me 'as flesh and blood' after we were turned. Funny how you never said that to mother when she blatantly labeled you as her favorite child and neglected me. I guess familial bonds only matter to you when you're able to get your way in the end. It's interesting how our true colors come to light when faced with our demise." 

"You want to see true colors? Fine- I'll show you true colors!"

Rosalie grabbed her older brother by his shirt and pulled him in close. She whispered her declaration to him, watching his expression to make sure her words hit him as brutally as possible.

She was caught off guard when a gentle smile was flashed in response.

"Allow me to make my own confession, dear sister." His voice dropped to a lower, raspier, more vulnerable one. "There have been times where I thought the same. Where I wished that were true. But, if we're being honest: had I known this is how we would've ended up, I would've never given so much of myself away for the sake of pleasing you. Because if there's anyone in this world who never deserved the kindness I gave, it's you. So, finally, as we part ways for the last time, let me make this perfectly clear."

Rosalie was pulled up, her feet dangling above the floor.

"...If you're ever able to claw your way out of your own self-inflicted damnation, in your next life, and every single one to follow, I sincerely hope we don't cross paths. Because I never want to see you again."

Rosalie gripped at her brother's wrist. "You- I-"

"Give my regards to mother. I'm sure she'll be happy to reunite with you."

"Marsh, don't you dare-"

"Goodbye, Rose."

With a single tug of his hand, Marshall was successful in putting an end to Rosalie.

He jumped back down toward the front porch, tossing her remains with everyone else's.

His gift was deactivated while looking over Carlisle and Esme's forms.

Both people were distraught. They stared at their children's ashes with shock. If it were possible, there was no doubt tears would be streaming down their faces.

Unexpectedly, there was also a form of resignation seen in their eyes as well. Like both Cullens had expected a turn of events such as this to happen, even if it was something they never wanted.

Marshall's glare didn't falter. "I'm sparing you for the child's sake. Don't make me take my decision back."

Frowning, he made his way back toward the forest to reunite with his pack mates. He helped Paul to his feet and ran a hand through his soft fur.

"Bella's still alive," Carlisle stated with haste. "There is venom coursing through her system. The possibility is slim, but she could make it through her transformation."

"And if she does..." Esme knotted her hands together. "She might come after you."

"...Let her."

Having all the wolves in tow, Marshall walked away from his old home with the sound of silence following close behind.