i. past lives

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CHAPTER ONE:
PAST LIVES

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THERE WAS A STRANGER inside Ofelia Torres’ house. Ofelia had noticed it from a mile away, that eerily familiar floral yet fruity scent (an odd combination of lavender and citrus) that lingered through the aroma of hot blood on the afternoon breeze. She immediately grew defensive, the blood coating her lips and chin long forgotten as she dropped the warm body now limp in her grasp to the ground. He was nothing more than a monster, a man of wicked sin, undeserving of dignity as he met his violent end. She simply stepped over his awkwardly strewn limbs, tongue kissing her teeth as she glared down at his sunken features, before she set her sights where her house sat in the distance.

Only two people on this earth knew where the infamous Ofelia Torres resided. In the cruel aftermath of a war well fought, Ofelia had decided that it was better for her to go off the grid, settling on remote land where no one could find her unless she wanted them to. How this stranger had defied the law of nature, she wasn’t sure, but Ofelia was more than ready to find out. When given the option to either kill or be killed, Ofelia would take the knife and fight every single time. She had spent forever and then some stuck on this devious earth; she was tired of worshipping every new devil when she could be her own god. The devil bowed to her now, and if needed, this invader would find out the hard way what it meant to trespass upon the great doors of hell.

Ofelia’s home, much like her soul, was a barren battle ground of calculation. A simple one-storey red-brick cottage in the heart of the woods, it was perfect for somebody who was used to fleeing more than settling. A moment’s notice was all she would need to escape when the flames got too close for comfort. As she reached the dirt track leading up to her front door, she paused behind the row of bushes that protected the property line, inhaling lavender and citrus with a predatory sneer. If she listened close enough, she could just make out the faintest shuffles of lithe feet on wooden floorboards. The stranger was graceful, then. Another listen. No heartbeat, no breathing, just an empty walking talking body. Interesting. Her intruder was a vampire. Ofelia didn’t take kindly to vampires, not anymore.

Her hackles raised, she crept up to the front door, using the thick of the bushland as coverage from potentially spying eyes. The several locks that Ofelia had made sure to add as extra security were surprisingly unlocked, leaving the slightest crack between the door and its frame. No signs of forced entry, it made no sense. Charlotte and Peter were the only people she trusted with keys to her cottage, and Ofelia knew their scents like she knew her own.

‘Be ready, Ofelia,’ she thought to herself. 

With a shake of her head, she pushed the door open, every movement carefully planned out. They would not hear her coming, not if she had anything to say about it. And so, unlike the stranger, the old floorboards made no sound under her feet. Ofelia had long since learnt which ones to avoid as she inched her way down the hallway to the living room. Closer, closer, closer. Lavender and citrus began to cloud her senses, leaving a sickening ache where her stomach should’ve been. It was too familiar. Ofelia didn’t like that. She’d spent a long time running from past demons, she’d rather die a forever kind of death than face them again.

She stepped around the living room door frame, her knees braced in preparation to pounce, only to be met with emptiness. Just a few more feet, she thought with a scowl. There was a soft clatter from the kitchen, a displeased hum, but no other sounds to indicate who it might’ve been. Ofelia rounded the corner and in a flash, she was leaping forward, snarling as she grabbed the figure hard with a hand around their throat.

“Whoa,” the intruder, a woman from the sounds of it, gasped in surprise.
 
Ofelia hissed over them, fingers pressed hard against supple marble skin as she twisted them into a headlock. They weren’t much shorter than she was, she noticed from her quick glimpse of their frame. Thin, willowy, rather like a mouse more than a lion. They didn’t look threatening, but she wasn’t about to risk it. She made that mistake once already and everyday she paid the price for it. Ofelia was sick of owing people.

“Tell me who you are and what you want, or I’ll snap your neck,” she growled into their ear, feeling the cracks forming already.

“Wait wait,” the person gasped out, struggling against her iron tight hold. Their attempt was in vain, however. Ofelia was a warrior, an experienced one, they would not be walking away alive unless she wanted them to. “Ofelia, it’s me, Alice!”

One tiny pause. The figure fought to meet her eyes, pale gold clashing with dark crimson, and Ofelia let out a heavy breath. “What the fuck, Alice?”

Immediately, she let her go. Alice Cullen released a surprised cough, scampering away from her before she could change her mind and grab her again. Ofelia simply clicked her tongue to the roof of her mouth; if she wanted to, she’d have Alice’s head in her hands already. Alice knew it too, for she wisely chose to keep her distance, her hands raised in surrender.

“I didn’t think you’d react like that,” she commented, though instead of sounding upset like a regular person might have, she sounded casual, almost proud that Ofelia was able to defend herself with such ease.

“What did you expect, then?” Ofelia snapped, her dark brows furrowed incredulously. “You broke into my house.”

“I needed to see you.”

“You broke in,” she repeated brashly, to which Alice just stared at her blankly. Ofelia let out a sigh, taking a moment to look her past over. Alice had not changed a bit in the years they spent apart. Her hair was still cut in the same short pixie cut, smooth brown curls framing a thin and pretty face. Her eyes were a bright gold, a pledge to preserve the human life Ofelia prayed upon, that did nothing to combat the soft appearance she wore with pride. Standing before her in a cream sweater, knee-length black skirt and flats, Alice looked like a typical meek teenage girl. But Ofelia knew better than that. She also knew this was no ordinary visit. Alice didn’t just visit anyone. “What do you want, Alice Cullen? And don’t even think of lying to me.”

Alice’s face grew solemn. With the weight of the world on her shoulders, she gestured behind Ofelia to the living room. “Can we sit down? It’s a long story, but I need your help.”

Ofelia’s jaw clenched as she hesitated. But with one more imploring look from little Alice, she relented. “Fine.”

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“THIS IS LUDICROUS,” OFELIA cried the moment the words left Alice’s mouth. The shorter of the two was perched uncomfortably on Ofelia’s faded brown leather couch, a frown on her face as she watched the older woman pace before her in a state of shock. “I don’t know what type of sick joke this is-”

“Ofelia, please,” Alice implored, reaching out to her with gentle hands. Ofelia froze at the cool touch to her arm, turning to meet Alice’s eyes skeptically. “We didn’t know what to think either, but it's as real as you and I are. I wouldn’t lie about this, not to you.”

According to Alice, the Volturi were after them. The moment she so much as mentioned their name, Ofelia had almost cast her out. She had bad blood with the Volturi guard, so to speak. They were wicked to the bone, crueler than Maria herself, and Ofelia had tried her entire life to keep out of their way. But they were coming for Alice and her coven, for a little half-vampire half-human girl created by Edward Cullen and a human girl named Bella Swan, an innocent. It was unheard of, but Alice was right; Ofelia knew no one in the right mind would lie with a death wish hanging over their head.

“Say I believe you,” Ofelia said after a long period of silence. “Why should I help? I don’t know Edward or Bella, I don’t know the child. It would not bother me if they were killed.”

Alice’s face fell at her words, but they were true, no matter how harsh they were. Alice and him, they had left Ofelia in the 1950s to join the renowned Cullen Coven, one of the only covens who drank from animals instead of humans. They had offered to take Ofelia with them, but the thought of letting go of her diet, of settling down with another family terrified her. She wanted to taste the beauty of freedom and relish in it. She wanted to see the world for what it was rather than the selective parts that Maria exposed her to. And so, she and Alice and him had said their goodbyes, and that was that. Ofelia didn’t know Edward or Bella or any of the others. It wouldn’t hurt her if something happened to them.

“Well, what about Jasper?” Alice asked out of the blue. 

“Don’t-” Ofelia immediately protested, though she was cut off before she could say much.

“You might not care about Edward or Bella, but you know him.” There was a heavy pause. Alice was the only person apart from Charlotte and Peter who knew what Jasper Whitlock (or Jasper Hale, as he called himself now) meant to Ofelia Torres. If she was bringing him up now, it was serious. No one mentioned Jasper to Ofelia unless they were asking for a fight. “He needs you. I need you. Just- please consider it. We’re running out of time.”

For a moment, Ofelia let herself think about the before. Stolen kisses, heavy and warm against breathless lips, frozen hearts held like broken fragile birds in the palms of their hands. Once upon a nightmare, Jasper was all Ofelia had to keep her head above water. He was the only person who understood how it felt to be controlled, like they were nothing more than pawns on Maria’s chessboard. She hadn’t seen him in a long long time, but Jasper had taken her heart with him when he left with Alice and she’d never gotten it back. She couldn’t let him die. She couldn’t let Alice die. And no matter what she said, the guilt of letting an innocent family die at the hands of a coven like the Volturi would eat her alive.

“You’ve decided,” Alice commented suddenly, eyes glassy. She looked to Ofelia expectantly, watching as she sat down beside her like her legs could no longer support her weight. “Tell me.”

“Say I agree to witness for you,” Ofelia said, her words slow and carefully chosen, like any sudden movements might spook her. “What would you need me to do?”

Alice smiled, all teeth and false hope. “How do you feel about the rain, Ofelia?”

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A/N: It took me way too long to write this, I'm so sorry :( I really have no other reason to explain it except that I've been so caught up in writing for my Harry Potter fanfics (which you really should check out if you haven't already, I love my HP children so damn much) that I guess I just forgot about my Twilight babies for a second (which is criminal of me, really, I can't believe it.) Anyway, I've finished school now so I'm hopefully going to have more time to spare which means I can update them more. So yeah, keep an eye out for that and please let me know what you think as I go. Thank you for reading <3

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