I arrived at the Cullens' without any issues, greeting everyone as I entered. Soon after, we all made our way to the place where the meeting was set to take place. Emmett, ever thoughtful, had packed a duffle bag with warm clothes for me, knowing how cold it would be.

We set up camp in the mountains, preparing for the battle that awaited us the next day. Night had fallen, and the air was thick with anticipation. The others were in their element, unaffected by the cold. They stood still, like statues, silent and waiting, as if time itself had paused around them. I gripped the pouch tightly, its weight reassuring but heavy with the uncertainty of what was to come. Filled to the brim with potions, I hoped I wouldn't have to use them, but deep down, I knew I might.

The snow was falling softly on the mountain, blanketing everything in a quiet white. Jake, bundled up in his coat, carried a pile of firewood in his arms. I sat on a large log, watching him, waiting for him to drop the load. Benjamin and his mate sat beside me on my right, their presence a quiet comfort. As Jake dropped the firewood to the ground, his eyes met mine, and he gave me a slight nod, the silent understanding between us clear.

I smirked at Jake before turning my gaze to the firewood. With a quiet murmur, I whispered, "Incendia." The words left my lips like a soft command, and the wood suddenly ignited, flames dancing and crackling to life. The heat from the fire spread quickly, offering warmth to both Jake and me as the fire burned steadily, lighting up the cold mountain air.

"Now that's what I'm talking about," Jacob said, his eyes gleaming as the flames shot higher, crackling as they devoured the firewood. "A little pre-battle bonfire." He walked over and sat next to me on the log, and I could feel his body heat through his clothes. "Telling war stories," he added with a grin.

We both glanced toward the vampires, standing motionless like statues, their eyes fixed on the horizon. They didn't budge an inch, their stillness unnerving against the raging cold around us. They looked more like marble figures.

"Or just standing there like frickin' statues," Jacob added, earning a smirk from me. I couldn't help but glance around at everyone, noticing how motionless they were. No one really knew how to pass the time. They couldn't sleep, because they didn't need it, so all they could do was wait.

Suddenly, a blur appeared out of nowhere and landed on a log next to us. It was Garrett. "Name any American battle... I was there," he said, his eyes fixed on the fire before he pointed a finger at us as if daring us to challenge him.

"Little Bighorn," Jake replied to Garrett, and I turned my gaze to him, curious to see how he'd respond.

"I came this close to biting Custer," Garrett said, holding his index finger and thumb just an inch apart. "But the Indians got him first." I glanced over at Jake, noticing the slight discomfort on his face as he listened to Garrett's story.

"Try Oleg's assault on Constantinople. He didn't win that one on his own," Kate chimed in suddenly, appearing out of nowhere and settling herself comfortably on Garrett's lap. The two had become inseparable since arriving here, their bond growing stronger with each passing day.

"If you're talking battles, you're talking the Eleven Years' War. No one does rebellion like the Irish," the Irish vampire said, appearing out of nowhere with his wife and daughter, sitting on the opposite log from us.

"You lost the Eleven Years' War," Garrett said, eyeing the Irishman with a teasing smirk.

"Aye, but it was one hell of a rebellion," the Irish vampire shot back, his lips curling into a smug grin. Garrett chuckled and pointed a finger at him, returning the look with a knowing smirk. He clearly understood what the Irishman meant.

Everyone began gathering around the campfire, shifting to find a spot. Some stood, others sat on logs or leaned against rocks. I found myself next to Emmett, his arm wrapped around me, pulling me closer. Though he didn't have any body heat to offer, the gesture of comfort was what mattered. To our left stood Esme, with Rosalie next to her, forming a quiet circle around the warmth of the fire.

"When we ruled, everything came to us," Vladimir began, his voice capturing everyone's attention as they listened intently. "Prey, diplomats, favour seekers. Such was our power. But we never put on white hats and called ourselves saints."

"We were honest about what we were," Stefan added, his voice steady.

Vladimir's gaze shifted to his friend. "We sat still for a very long time," he continued, his tone laced with regret. "We didn't notice we were beginning to petrify." Stefan met his friend's eyes, sharing the weight of the same realization.

"Perhaps the Volturi did us a favor when they... burned our castles," Stefan mused, though his tone wavered with uncertainty. He wasn't sure whether losing everything to the Volturi's flames had been a blessing or a curse.

"We've been waiting fifteen hundred years to return the favor," Vladimir declared, his voice filled with the weight of centuries of anticipation.

Suddenly, Emmett gently pulled me in the opposite direction of everyone else, leading us deeper into the forest. I didn't resist, thinking he might want a quiet moment alone together. As we moved further away, Vladimir's voice became muffled in the distance, though I was sure Emmett could still hear every word perfectly.

Emmett suddenly stopped, turning to face me. Our eyes met, and I couldn't help but frown, uncertain of what he was about to say. The intensity in his gaze made my heart race, and I braced myself for whatever was coming.

"I... I need you to go with Jacob and Renesmee," Emmett's words hit me like a cold wave, and I stared at him in shock, not expecting him to push me away.

"No," I replied instantly, my voice firm and resolute.

"Charlotte, this isn't up for debate," he shot back, his voice rising. "I'm trying to protect you," he continued, his gaze locking onto mine with an intensity I couldn't ignore. His worry was clear—he wanted to keep me safe, no matter what might come.

I shook my head, the weight of his words sinking in, but I couldn't let them dictate my choices.

"Emmett, I'm not running," I said, my voice softer but just as determined. "I'm not leaving you. Not now. Not when it matters most." He stepped closer, his hand brushing against mine as if trying to reassure me, but his expression was strained, torn between the desire to protect me and the fear of what we might face.

"You don't understand." His voice softened, almost pleading. "The Volturi... they're ruthless. They won't hesitate to—"

"I know," I cut him off gently. "But I can't just stand by while everyone else fights. I'm not going to hide, Emmett." He sighed, his shoulders slumping with the weight of the decision.

For a moment, we stood there, the sounds of the forest around us muffling everything else. His eyes searched mine, trying to find a reason, something that would make him feel ok with this. But I knew the truth. There was no easy answer.

"I can't lose you," he whispered, his voice barely audible, full of raw emotion. "I won't," He leaned in, gently resting his forehead against mine, and for a brief moment, everything else faded away.

I struggled to find the right words, unsure of what awaited us when we faced the Volturi. The uncertainty loomed over me, leaving me speechless. But deep down, I knew I couldn't run and hide like my kind had done centuries ago.

I leaned in and pressed my lips against his, the kiss desperate and urgent, as if I were trying to savour every last moment, fearing it might be my final one with him. His arms tightened around me, pulling me closer as the kiss deepened, both of us trying to make the moment last, even though we both knew time was slipping away.

"If it comes to it... I'll make sure you survive. You and everyone else." I promised though the weight of my words felt heavier than I intended. He held me tightly, as if afraid to ever let me go, wanting nothing more than to keep me safe in his arms, shielding me from whatever was to come.

As I clung to him, my head resting against his chest, I glanced to the right. In the distance stood the Salem Thirteen, only twelve were huddled together. Though their eyes were hidden, I could feel their gaze piercing through me, their presence a silent, unyielding force. I knew they were watching, waiting...

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