𝑨𝒏𝒅𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒅𝒂 𝑽𝒐𝒍𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒊 was found by none other than Caius Volturi as a newborn after being kidnapped by members of the newly expanded Romanian coven. After looking into her brown eyes, Caius knew that this child was as good as his own and...
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𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐑𝐘 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐒 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐀 𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋'𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓, 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐀'𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐎 𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍. Given every reason to despise Isabella Swan, Andromeda Volturi still fell back on the life lessons her mama taught as a young child. Swift kindness in any situation could make or break your heart, and Andromeda would not fare well to a soul incomplete.
Up-front, the girl knew that this relationship with Jacob would take time, energy, and passion from the involved parties. She had the confidence of a lion, hoping that it could settle with his wolf.
Back at the Swan house, Charlie came to see Andromeda and Jacob signing away in the car. The police chief smiled at how jovial their faces were, both turned up in grins. Jacob had always been a favorite of Charlie's, with the boy being the son of his two best friends. Respectable, polite, kind, just as he would expect.
It filled the once hopeless man with happiness. Charlie was unable to get over his dislike of Edward Cullen, thinking that Bella was perhaps being used by him. Seeing his second daughter with someone of respectability and honorable intent poured some fatherly devotion on top of their strengthening bond. If anything, Charlie wanted Jacob Black as a son, in one way or another.
"Charlie is looking at us," Jacob quickly informed his imprint.
"Father doesn't seem mad. Does he like you?" The shifter nodded, much to the relief of Andromeda. Papa would not like his species, but an ignorant father had already graced the boy. Overprotectiveness can only be handled on one side of a family with two fathers involved. "My papa does not like wolves, but warming up to you should occur once he sees the devotion lurking in your eyes."
Jacob chuckled at the fancy language she often used. Born and raised an Italian princess, trained by royalty to become an elegant, immortal beauty. It was obvious that his imprint would have an expansive vocabulary.
"Who is your papa?" the boy asked.
"Caius Volturi, king of the ancient. Aged almost thirty-five hundred years old, in fact. Dangerous man to mess with. To be quite frank, he hates all wolves, dogs, and anything too closely related to them. I hope our bond will soften his loathing."
