Immortals (Ch. 41) (Patreon)

( Every character in this story is a legal adult over the age of 18 )

Immortals 

Chapter 41

Aro sat alone with his hand clasped tightly around the ivory handle of a silver blade. The ivory cracked with every agitated squeeze, and the sound of it breaking amplified his unease. “I know the Cullens had something to do with this!” he muttered as his eyes darted around the room. 

The walls of his private study were lined with books and curiosities. Most of them were useless, but they all reminded him of how much the world outside the fortress had changed while Aro remained the same. It had been weeks since he’d had a moment of peace. The anxiety gnawed at him, and he’d taken to locking himself away for days at a time, suspecting betrayal from within his own ranks.

Tonight, however, the castle was quieter than usual. On the other side of the thick oak door, the usual parade of guards and sycophants had vanished. Aro could almost taste the suspicion in the air. He leaned back in the high-backed chair, stretched, and felt the cool silk of his robe slide over his skin.

And then, suddenly, a new sensation invaded the room. It was the unmistakable, stomach-churning smell of dog shit.

Aro’s nose wrinkled, and he bolted upright, immediately on edge. He sniffed the air, trying to pinpoint the source. The stench was subtle at first, but it rapidly blossomed into an overwhelming pungency that seemed to cling to every surface. He scanned the room, but all was as it had been. There was a desk, a stack of correspondence, and an ornately engraved dagger that he used to open his letters. He checked his shoes and found nothing. He checked under the desk, behind the curtains, and even under the throw rug. Still nothing. The smell persisted, then grew stronger, and he realized with a chill that it wasn’t coming from inside the room at all. It was coming from the corridor outside.

An urgent bang at the door rattled its hinges. Aro leaped to his feet with wide eyes. He crossed the room silently and flattened himself against the wall beside the door. “Who’s there?” he snapped. “State your purpose!”

There was a pause before he heard the slow, familiar drawl. “It’s Marcus.”

Aro relaxed, though just barely, and he reached for the handle. He cracked the door open, peeked through with one eye, and saw Marcus standing in the hallway. The older vampire looked even more bored than usual, but his eyes widened as they fell on Aro’s face.

Aro braced for an insult, but Marcus only stared for a moment. “What?” Aro demanded, scowling.

Marcus’s lips twitched. “Were you … expecting someone else?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Aro shot back, and he fully opened the door and squared his shoulders. If Marcus was surprised by his appearance, so be it. He could not afford to look weak. 

Marcus’s gaze drifted upward to the shock of platinum-blonde curls crowning Aro’s head. It was a cheap wig that Aro had mysteriously found in his desk drawer, and it clashed with his sallow skin in a way that would have been comical if not for the dark circles under his eyes and the streaks of powdery makeup smeared across his cheeks. His lips were covered in blood-red lipstick. The color was just a shade off from what Aro had hoped for, but at least the look was menacing.

“You look like you’ve just given Bozo the Clown a blowjob,” Marcus finally said in a flat voice.

Aro ignored the jab. “The Volturi are having a meeting,” Marcus said. “ … and you’re needed.” He glanced back down the hall, then back at Aro again, as if to reassure himself that this was real. “Bring the blade if you must, but do try to look less … festive.”

Aro hissed under his breath, swept a hand through his curly wig, and stepped out into the corridor. He slammed the door shut. The two vampires walked side by side, and their footsteps made no sound on the ancient flagstones. Marcus kept glancing at the Marilyn Monroe-style wig. Each time, he shook his head, unable to believe that his old friend had stooped so low. Aro ignored him and focused on the meeting ahead. Neither noticed the invisible Harry Potter trailing just a few feet behind, moving with the patience of a stalking cat.

The fortress was a maze of narrow corridors that twisted and doubled back on themselves. They were designed to disorient trespassers and protect the heart of the Volturi’s power. The further they walked, the colder the air grew, and the more oppressive the gloom became. Glowing sconces cast long, flickering shadows on the walls, and every so often, a pale, silent guard drifted out of the darkness and bowed as they passed. Aro took comfort in the pompous ceremony. The rituals of power were all he had left.

They passed through a series of ornate, arched doorways. In one room, gold-leaf frescoes lined the walls, depicting the Volturi’s greatest conquests. There were bloody scenes of war, medieval executions, and blood feasts under the full moon. Aro ducked his head, not wanting to be reminded of better days. He pressed on. His robe billowed, and his wig bounced with every step.

At the end of the hall, they stopped before a pair of massive double doors. Aro took a moment to compose himself. He adjusted the wig, dabbed at his face with a monogrammed handkerchief, and tried to wipe away some of the caked makeup, only to smear it further. Marcus watched all of this with an incredulous expression. Finally, Aro nodded, and together they pushed open the doors and entered the council chamber.

The room was cavernous. It was ringed by ancient columns and filled with the scent of burning candles. Caius was already seated at the round table. He wore a dark suit that was impeccably tailored to his frame, and his hands were folded before him. He looked up as Aro and Marcus entered, and his expression went from stony to outright revolted.

“What is that on your head?” Caius demanded, unable to stop himself.

Aro ignored the question, took his seat at the head of the table, and set his blade down with a loud clatter. “Let us begin,” he said. “We have much to discuss.”

Caius and Marcus exchanged a concerned look. Two guards lingered in the corner of the room, and both tried to look anywhere but at Aro’s face. One coughed into his hand, and the other’s eyes darted to the ceiling. Aro gathered his dignity and began outlining his suspicions about the Cullens.

“So it is agreed,” he said. “We all believe the Cullens are plotting something?” He looked around the table for support, but was met with silence. The only sound was the faint clicking of his own blade as he nervously tapped it on the tabletop.

For the next hour, the council debated. Aro grew increasingly agitated. He fumbled over his words and gestured wildly. At one point, his wig slipped sideways, obscuring one eye, and he had to yank it back into place. By the end of the meeting, his lipstick had smeared onto his chin, and his black mascara was running. 

When the meeting adjourned, Aro left the chamber first, slamming the doors behind him. He stalked down the hallway in an angry fury. Marcus followed a few steps behind him, and he finally spoke when they were well away from the chamber. 

“This is beneath you, you know,” Marcus said. “You were once the most feared name in Europe. And now you’re … this.” He lamely gestured at the wig.

Aro whirled on him. “That is precisely why I must not show weakness,” he spat. “If I am to regain control, I must be memorable.” He swept a hand grandly through the air and partially dislodged his wig. “The Cullens think they can embarrass me. They will learn that humiliation is a weapon I can wield better than any.”

Marcus almost smiled, but it faded quickly. “You’re losing yourself, old friend.” Aro ignored him and strode away. Marcus lingered for a moment, then shook his head and followed.

Neither of them realized that the corridor behind them shimmered ever so slightly, as if the air itself were bending. Harry was walking a few paces behind them, invisible and utterly silent. He watched as the two ancient vampires bickered and postured, and he marveled at how strange the immortal world’s politics were. For all their power, the Volturi were little more than a squabbling family trapped in an endless loop of vanity and paranoia.

Harry followed, and when Aro slammed the door to his study, he phased right through. Aro growled, ripped the wig from his head, and slammed it down onto the ground. He muttered things about the Cullens as he paced back and forth. Harry smiled and pointed at the floor. Aro’s pacing took him directly into the path of a steaming pile of dog shit. Aro’s foot hit the pile, slipped out from under him, and he landed hard on his back. When the smell of freshly disturbed dog shit hit his nostrils, Aro roared in anger and frustration. 

Immortals

When Harry reappeared in the beach house, he found Carlisle and Esme sitting at the kitchen island. Carlisle wore a crisp, open-collared shirt, and Esme wore a soft blue dress cinched at her narrow waist. They looked up as Harry entered.

Esme’s beautiful face lit up with a smile. “Harry. Back so soon?”

He nodded. “I finished my errand. Am I interrupting you?”

“Not at all,” Esme said, turning to face him. Her eyes were warm and inviting. “I was just telling Carlisle I needed to pop back to our house. We’ve been gone for over a month, and there are things I need to take care of.” Her voice was light, but Harry could sense the deeper longing beneath it. It had been weeks since the Cullens had set foot in their own home, and he knew how much Esme missed it.

“I can take you,” he said. “If you like.”

Esme glanced at Carlisle, who gave her hand a squeeze. “Go on,” he said gently. “I’ll be here when you get back. And maybe, if Harry is in a good mood, he’ll transport us to our island for the weekend.”

Esme smiled and took Harry’s offered arm. He felt a subtle thrill as her fingers curled around his bicep. He gripped her hand firmly, and in the blink of an eye, the world dissolved and reassembled itself in the Cullens’ entry hall. The familiar smell of pine needles filled the air. The house was as pristine as they’d left it. For a few seconds, she just stood there, enjoying the sight of her home. Then she let out a sigh and turned to Harry.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “Really, thank you. I know you have a million obligations, but …”

He cut her off with a handsome grin. “You’re welcome. But I didn’t just bring you here to water the plants, Esme.” And with that, Harry stepped in close, wrapped his hand around her waist, and pulled her against him. She let out a little gasp, and Harry caught the glimmer of surprise and delight in her honey-colored eyes.

She never got a chance to protest. He pressed his mouth to hers and kissed her deeply. Esme melted into him immediately and surrendered to his passion. Harry’s hands caressed the curves of her hips, then he moved them down and cupped her ass. She laughed into his mouth as her composure vanished. 

Esme could feel his erection pressing against her hip. She pulled back just enough to smirk at him. “Don’t you ever get enough?” she asked.

“Of you? Definitely not,” Harry teased. He ran his fingers along the delicate fabric at the neckline of her dress, then, with a sudden jerk, he tore the front seam clean open. The fabric gave way with a soft rip, exposing the lacy blue bra underneath. Esme inhaled sharply, but she didn’t try to stop him. Instead, her hands slid up to frame his face, and she kissed him again. Her kiss was deeper and needier. 

Harry ran his hands down her body and over the thin strap of her panties. He pressed her up against the nearest wall and ground himself against her. Esme shuddered and clutched at his waist, pulling him even closer. Her eyes were bright with excitement at the chance of some midday fun. 

He stepped back just long enough to admire her body. The torn dress hung off her shoulders, and her bra barely contained her breasts. The sight of her half-naked body further fueled his lust. He slid a hand beneath her bra and cupped her breast, and Esme gasped at the sensation. She arched her back and let her head fall against the wall, giving herself over entirely to him.

“Bedroom?” he suggested. Her voice was thick with lust. 

Her eyes sparkled. “If we make it that far,” she teased.

He effortlessly lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her up the staircase. Harry ripped the rest of her dress off, and they left a trail of blue fabric behind them. By the time they reached the master bedroom, Esme was breathing heavily. Harry kicked the door open and tossed her onto the enormous bed. She landed with a laugh, and he followed, pinning her beneath him.

He kissed her neck, her collarbone, and the tops of her breasts, leaving a trail of heat wherever his lips landed. Esme threaded her fingers through his hair and pulled him closer, desperate for more. She ripped his shirt clean off and ran her hands down his bare chest. Harry caught her wrists and held them above her head, and Esme’s breath caught in her throat. She bit her lip and squirmed, trying to rub her covered pussy against him. 

He ripped her bra off, bent down, and took one nipple in his mouth. Esme moaned and arched her back beneath him. Harry let go of her hands and let his fingers wander. He stroked the inside of her thigh, and his fingers inched higher with every pass. He felt the dampness gathering at the center of her panties, and it made him crazed with lust.

She shamelessly spread her legs for him, and Harry hooked his thumbs into the waistband of her panties and slid them down her legs, kissing every inch of skin as he went. Esme trembled as his lips brushed against her silky smooth mound, and her eyes fluttered when he lightly kissed her throbbing clit. He buried his face between her thighs and tongued her wet pussy. Harry then licked her with increasing intensity until she was writhing against his mouth.

She came quickly and cried out loud enough for the entire town of Forks to hear. Harry sat up and stripped off the rest of his clothes. He hovered over her nude body, admiring the way her chest heaved with every breath. Her pink nipples jutted out from her pale areolas, and he leaned down and sucked one into his mouth. Esme mewled sexily and squirmed as he sucked on her stiff bead. She reached up and pulled him down, guiding him inside her, and they both shuddered as he slipped inside. 

Esme’s pussy gripped Harry’s cock like a vice. She was soaked, and every time he pushed in, her walls squeezed around him like she was trying to pull everything out of him. The deeper he went, the harder her pussy gripped him, and her body pulled him in without her even trying.

Harry watched her beautiful face while he fucked her. He could see her getting closer. Her breath caught in her throat, and her body tightened up. Every thrust made her shudder. When he pulled out slowly, she gasped. The wet sound of his cock sliding in and out filled the bedroom. She was so wet that every time he bottomed out, there was a loud squelch. Esme looked a little embarrassed at the perverse sounds her body was making, but it was clear that she wanted more. 

Harry pinned her down and fucked her as hard as he could, making her take him deeper. The bed creaked under them, sounding like it might break at any second. Esme wrapped her legs around him and locked her ankles behind his back so he couldn’t pull out. She kissed him hard, and her tongue quickly found his. Her fingers dug into his shoulders every time he hit her favorite spot, and she gasped into his mouth. The feeling built until she couldn’t stay still.

He shifted his angle and started pounding into her g-spot, causing pleasure to shoot up her spine. She threw her head back and cried out as her pussy clamped down so hard Harry had to grit his teeth. She clawed at his back and shook under him while her thighs trembled. Her orgasm hit fast and hard, and her walls spasmed around his cock, squeezing him over and over.

“Harry,” she gasped as her sweet voice shook. “Keep going … Just a little longer.” Her body bucked as another wave hit her. She kept cumming, having one orgasm after another with each wet thrust. She didn’t know if she wanted him to finish inside her or keep going forever. She’d never felt so full or so completely taken.

He groaned and sucked on her graceful neck. She felt his cock swell and start spurting inside her. He pushed deep and came, filling her with hot cum. Esme gasped and shuddered as her pussy kept milking him. He stayed inside her and kissed her face, her neck, and her jaw while they both shook. Their bodies were locked tightly together, and Esme wouldn’t have had it any other way. Her wet pussy didn’t want to let him go.

He stroked her hair, tucked it behind her ear, then kissed her softly. The gesture was so intimate that her pussy fluttered around his shaft. She kissed him back and held him close. Her head was still spinning, and she didn’t want to move. She didn’t want the moment to end.

They lay together in her and her husband’s bed, catching their breath. Though Esme didn’t need to breathe, it certainly felt like she did every time Harry made her cum. It was amazing how human he made her feel. Esme felt warm, sleepy, and safe in his arms. She rested her head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat, content to stay right there for as long as he would have her.