in which Aro Volturi finds his mate in an asylum
where Ivy's touch is lethal to humans.
breaking dawn pt 1- breaking dawn pt 2
book two out of three. can be read as a stand-alone.
aro volturi x oc
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Ivy felt it first in her chest—a sharp, suffocating pressure that spread through her ribs like wildfire. It wasn't fear. Not even panic.
It was rage.
A slow-building, all-consuming storm that had waited far too long to break free. Her fingers trembled at her sides from the need to scream. To break something.
Aro had been different from everyone else—he was the first person who hadn't recoiled at the sight of her, hadn't treated her like some monster lurking in the shadows. For the first time in a long time, she had allowed herself to trust someone, to believe that maybe she wasn't entirely broken beyond repair. She had told him everything, laid bare the shattered pieces of her mind, the darkest corners she thought no one could ever understand or survive.
But then, without ever asking or warning her, he had crossed a boundary she hadn't even realized was there, quietly slipping into the most private part of her world by reading her thoughts—those secret places she had kept locked away, the raw and messy feelings she never intended to share. He never told her. He never asked if it was okay.
He just took.
And that silent, invisible invasion—the way he had stolen what she thought was hers alone—was a deeper betrayal than any lie or broken promise could ever be.
Her chest tightened painfully as she swallowed, the weight of that realization pressing down on her until it felt like she might shatter all over again. The person she thought saw her—the real her—had only been reading the pages of her mind without ever truly looking.
Her fingers twitched, aching to reach for him, not in affection. Not in desperation. To hurt. To turn the tables. To make him feel what she had felt every time his hand had brushed against her skin.
She had thought Aro was her savior. The one who had pulled her from the cold, sterile hell of her past. The one who had touched her face with reverence—reverence, not fear.
And now— Now she saw him for what he truly was.
Not a savior. A collector.
Aro hadn't rescued her. He had claimed her. Wrapped her in silk and shadows, whispered promises in her ear while binding her in chains she couldn't see until they were already too tight to escape.
Every kind word. Every careful glance. Every brush of his hand. All of it calculated.
The realization hit her like a second wave—colder than the first. A different kind of fire, one that burned beneath her skin and made her spine stiffen.
