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Edward POV
Edward left the house in a blur, crossing the clearing and plunging into the forest with the familiar sensation of wind breaking around him. He didn't look back. There was no need. The sounds of the house—the soft footsteps on wood, the muffled voices, the overlapping thoughts of those who still remained inside—faded gradually as the distance grew.
Part of him felt relieved. At least he was doing something useful—something that might help, though deep down, he wasn't sure he should be doing it at all. He didn't really know what he was getting into, or how far he was supposed to go. There was a fine line between cooperation and complicity, and with every step north, he felt himself crossing it a little more.
He knew what he had to do: the newborns, the Romanians, the instructions Nate had given him. But he didn't understand the purpose behind it all.
Since his transformation, Nate had never shown any interest in power. Edward had heard countless stories of newborns who, in their first months, believed themselves invincible—young vampires who gathered followers, who treated entire cities as their territory or their cattle. But Nate had never been one of them. He had spent months in Denali, silent, mastering his thirst, perfecting his control. Nothing in his behavior had ever suggested ambition or a desire for leadership. And yet, now he was surrounded by a small army, moving pieces Edward couldn't quite comprehend.
It was difficult to read him.
At times, it seemed as though everything in Nate revolved around Alice—as if his world began and ended with her, as if nothing beyond her gaze made sense. Edward understood that better than anyone; it was exactly how he felt about Bella. But then there were other moments—darker ones—when anger or resentment seeped into Nate's gestures, into his silences, into the way his lips pressed together without a word. Edward sensed something deeper than something dangerous: a quiet, almost destructive force that could consume anything standing in its way.
He had seen it when Nate went to Washington, D.C., searching for answers about his parents, and had felt it even more strongly during the incident with Riley.
To Edward, Nate was unstoppable—a force you could only try to avoid, a concentrated torrent of pain, anger, and determination. If the frustration Edward himself felt for not being able to protect Nate's grandmother was only a fraction of the hatred Nate carried toward that vampire, then Edward couldn't help but feel a certain pity for him. He knew—with the instinctive certainty that only years could give—that when Nate finally faced Riley, there would be no mercy and no hesitation. He would destroy him without blinking.
But even understanding that part of him, something still didn't add up.
If his real goal was to find Riley… why did he need an army?
Nate didn't need one. Edward had felt his strength firsthand. He remembered clearly the moment in Nate's grandmother's house—how easily Nate had restrained him, effortlessly, without a trace of hesitation… only pure authority. And if that weren't enough, there were the accounts from Denali: Kate, whose gift was oriented toward combat, had fallen before him with almost comical ease—unreal, even.
And the newborns…
Edward didn't need to read their minds to know, but he did anyway. The fear was palpable—an invisible blade running through their thoughts. They didn't see Nate as a leader or an ally; they saw him as a force of nature. Obedience wasn't loyalty—it was survival. Following his orders came as naturally to them as seeking shelter during a storm.
"Why would someone like him need soldiers?" Edward thought as he moved between the trees.
The question sank into the damp forest air, unanswered.
Perhaps anyone else would have chosen to simply watch from afar, to stay out of something that clearly didn't concern them. But Edward was different. Truths and secrets came to him like rain: inevitable, persistent, impossible to ignore. And yet, when it came to Nate… there was only silence.
Not the silence of the forest or the wind rustling through the leaves. It was a mental silence—heavy, impenetrable.
He had tried to read to Nate more than once. When Nate was human, his trick to block Edward's gift had been imperfect; Edward could still catch fragments, fleeting emotions, broken thoughts slipping through his defenses. But now… nothing. An absolute void. As if Nate's mind dissolved every time Edward tried to reach it.
It unsettled him deeply. Nate hadn't just grown physically stronger; his mind had become equally inaccessible—impenetrable, even to the most trained consciousness.
He kept running, his feet barely brushing the fallen leaves and roots, as if speed could erase the uncertainty chasing him.
The closer he got to his destination, the stronger the thought settled in his mind: this was a bad idea. He had sworn to stay out of trouble—to avoid anything that might threaten his life or those he loved—but the weight of his debt followed him with every step. The guilt of failing to protect Nate's grandmother drove him to act, to get involved, to refuse to remain still. Perhaps that was why he was here—venturing deeper into the forest, ready to confront an army of newborns under the command of a vampire who, by all appearances, possessed centuries more experience than he could imagine.
He tried to shake those thoughts away and focus on the practical: the instructions, rehearsing how he would handle himself in front of the newborns, anticipating their reactions, and preparing the right words and gestures. But as if his mind sensed his attempt to distract himself, it pushed him back toward the source of his greatest concern.
Bella.
More than once in recent days, he had been tempted to seek her out—to remind himself why it was worth staying in Forks and facing a wolf pack that had every right to drive him away. He missed her with a pain that felt almost physical, but he knew keeping her away was the right thing to do. He had avoided returning to school because of her, knowing that if she saw him, she would start asking questions—about Nate, about Alice, about the growing tension between vampires and wolves. And Edward knew he wouldn't be able to lie to her.
He knew her too well. Bella had an innate talent for getting into trouble and, at times, seemed entirely devoid of self-preservation. The clearest proof of that had been falling in love with him. If she ever found out what was happening, she wouldn't hesitate to get involved—and Edward couldn't allow that.
He sighed, feeling the weight of responsibility and the need to protect her tighten in his chest. He promised himself that only when Nate was gone and the Quileutes no longer posed a threat would he be able to see her again—without that burden pressing on his conscience.
..............................
His moment of reflection ended as the forest opened before him, forming a play of shadows and mist beneath the dim daylight. A light drizzle fell among the trees, filling the air with cool moisture. Edward began to sense the first presences—scattered, tense, watchful.
The newborns.
Beyond them, the cold, methodical, and controlled voice of Stefan became audible. A voice that ordered, imposed, and demanded with an almost instinctive authority, one that seemed to arise naturally, as if every word he spoke were an irrefutable command.
Edward slowed his pace, observing every movement, every gesture, trying to decipher the true nature of Stefan. There was something about him that stirred distrust; an aura reminiscent of a deceiver—or perhaps something darker. For an instant, Edward had the distinct feeling of facing a demon—someone capable of offering you exactly what you desired… in exchange for your soul.
When he was finally just a few meters away, Stefan noticed him as well—or at least pretended to barely notice. His expression softened, smooth as velvet against skin, almost as if greeting an old friend. Edward couldn't shake the feeling that there was something unnatural in that look, as though his face had been crafted solely to display arrogance or disdain.
Stefan greeted him with a smile so polished it seemed rehearsed. There was something artificial in the way his lips curved—a gesture meant to convey cordiality but dripping with calculation. Edward, on the other hand, kept a neutral expression while extending his perception into the other's mind, analyzing each thought as though he were unraveling a coded text.
It didn't take long for him to notice the precision with which Stefan dissected the situation. He had detected Edward long before he entered the clearing; he knew he'd come alone, though a small suspicion still flickered in his mind—that Nathaniel might be nearby. Even so, he made an effort to appear affable, ready to measure his visitor with the same subtlety with which a predator studies its prey.
"Well, well… how unexpected," Stefan finally said, his tone as soft as the edge of a blade. "I confess, I thought Nathaniel would come in person. But of course… I suppose gracing us with his presence two days in a row would be far beneath him. That's what he has people like you for… or like Vladimir and me, handling the things he deems trivial."
A faint smile crossed his face before he continued.
"But since you were here yesterday, I suppose you already know who I am—though I'm afraid I never had the pleasure of hearing your name. A member of his charming companion's coven, perhaps?"
Edward prepared to answer, but Stefan's thoughts filtered into his mind with sharp clarity. He was expectant, testing hypotheses—and among them floated the possibility that the one before him was Edward himself. Edward couldn't help but be surprised that Stefan already knew of his mind-reading ability. What unsettled him more, however, was noticing that it didn't disturb the Romanian in the slightest. Quite the opposite—it excited him.
Edward feigned a faint smile. It wouldn't be strange if Nate had already told them about him and his gift. Still, in that moment, he thought it best to keep his identity hidden.
"I'm Jasper," he said calmly. "One of Alice's brothers."
The instant he spoke the name, he caught the faintest mental grimace from Stefan: a restrained disappointment, a spark of irritation that never reached his face.
"Ah, I see," Stefan murmured, almost mockingly, tilting his head. "I'm afraid I didn't hear much about you…"
Edward kept his composure, though he noted how every one of Stefan's thoughts was crafted to provoke—to test him, weighing each word with the same hunger Edward himself had: to extract more information. Stefan wasn't just perceptive; he enjoyed pushing others' limits, probing how far he could bend a conversation before breaking it.
Edward sensed how Stefan began formulating in his mind different ways to coax information out of him. Not giving him the chance, Edward decided to fulfill his mission immediately.
With a firm voice—loud enough for the curious newborns watching from afar to hear—he spoke clearly:
"By Nathaniel's orders, you are to remain in the area without causing trouble or getting too close. At the end of the week, he will come personally to see you."
The mention of the name caused a slight ripple among the newborns. Even in their silence, Edward could feel the echo of the fear that name inspired. Stefan, meanwhile, only smiled with that enigmatic expression that seemed habitual to him.
"Excellent… that gives us a few more days to prepare," he said with apparent satisfaction, then added in a slightly lighter tone, "If possible, tell Nathaniel to come sooner. We didn't get much time to talk yesterday."
Edward gave a brief nod. His task was done, and though the temptation to linger and probe Stefan's mind tugged at him, he couldn't shake the feeling that staying would be unwise. With a trace of resignation, he began to step back, ready to leave.
Noticing his guest's intention to depart, Stefan moved with the effortless speed of their kind and sat gracefully upon a fallen log. Edward watched with mild surprise, one eyebrow lifting, as the Romanian let out a dry, quiet laugh.
"No need to be so reserved, Jasper," he said, with a familiarity carefully calculated. "Why not stay and chat a bit longer? I'm getting rather tired of being surrounded by these uncontrollable children."
Edward held his gaze, weighing his options. The need to understand more—to uncover what Nate was planning and how deeply Stefan was involved—gnawed at him. He doubted he would get another chance to be alone with the Romanian. It was surprising enough that Nate had allowed him to deliver the message in the first place.
Stefan, almost as if reading his thoughts directly, spoke again, amusement coloring his tone:
"Come now… we're all on the same side, aren't we? Perhaps we could share a few stories about our… leader."
He pronounced the last word with a trace of reluctance—just enough to stir Edward's curiosity.
He couldn't resist. The temptation to gain the information he so desperately sought outweighed his caution. With measured composure, he stepped closer and took a seat across from the Romanian, wishing with all his might that his "opponent" would prove less merciless than Nate.