Chapter Text
Bella’s phone buzzed against the kitchen counter. She grabbed it before it could finish the second ring, heart already racing. She’d been waiting for this call for over thirty minutes—ever since Sue had told them that Seth had texted.
“Edward?”
A beat of silence. Then finally, Edward’s voice, carefully measured. “Yes. It’s me.”
Bella exhaled shakily, unaware she’d been holding her breath. “Sue heard from Seth half an hour ago. You couldn’t have called sooner?”
Her words were clipped, sharp with frustration—but there was a tremor beneath them. A raw edge of fear.
Edward sighed, the sound heavy with weariness. “I wanted to wait until I had more than just ‘we found them.’ You deserved more than that.”
Bella closed her eyes, bracing herself. “How are they?”
There was a pause—brief, but weighted.
“Leah’s with Jenna. She seems unharmed. Hungry, crying... a little angry.”
Bella let out a watery laugh. “Sounds like a Clark.”
“Very on-brand,” Edward agreed, a faint smile in his voice. “Alice went to get some food for her. And clothes for Zoe.”
At the mention of her cousin, Bella’s stomach tightened. “Zoe’s okay?”
This pause was longer.
“She says she is. She won’t let Carlisle examine her, but Rosalie’s helping her clean up. She’s... quiet. Withdrawn. I don’t know how much she’ll share—maybe later. We’re trying to give her space.”
Through the receiver, Edward heard a muffled voice in the background—Charlie, he guessed. Bella shifted the phone slightly.
“Edward says they’re fine,” she said, not to him, but to someone on her end. “Zoe’s just getting cleaned up. Leah and Seth are still with them.”
Another pause. A low, gruff response that Edward couldn’t make out. Then Bella’s voice returned, clearer.
“Charlie’s asking when they’ll be home.”
“Tonight,” Edward said. “I think Zoe will want her own bed. Her own space. I’ll let you know as soon as we leave.”
Silence stretched between them, softer now. He could hear it in her breathing—the way her guard slipped for just a moment.
“Don’t let them push her, Edward,” Bella said quietly. “Don’t treat her like a mystery to solve. I’m not there to protect her right now, so... please. I need you to do it for me.”
Edward’s voice, when it came, was low. Steady. Unshakable. “I will. I promise.”
Bella nodded, though he couldn’t see her. “Thank you.”
They didn’t say goodbye. Just the soft click of the call ending—and Bella’s exhale, long and quiet, in the stillness of the Swan house.
The plane wheels hit the tarmac with a dull, jarring thud. Damon was already unbuckling before they’d fully taxied. His phone lit up the second he turned it off airplane mode—one missed call from Charlie Swan and a new message from Bonnie.
Locator spell worked. Call me.
His fingers clenched around the phone.
The bond had shifted again. It coiled tight with tension—an undercurrent of severe anxiety, laced with a dull, dragging dread. But there was something else now too: a flicker of relief, low and persistent, like a heartbeat through static. Zoe. Alive. Still tethered to him.
The phone buzzed in his hand. Charlie.
He picked up immediately. “Tell me.”
Charlie’s voice came through the line, strained but steady. “We found them. The Cullens did, actually. They’re bringing the girls home soon.”
Damon gritted his teeth at the name. “Of course they did.”
He stood and began weaving through first class like a man with nothing left to lose, already storming toward the exit doors.
“I’m on my way,” Damon growled, his voice low. “Tell them not to touch her.”
Charlie didn’t argue. “Drive safe.”
Click.
Damon pocketed the phone and walked faster, eyes burning ahead, jaw set. They had Zoe. They had Jenna.
But he was going to bring them home himself.
Carlisle’s head snapped toward the bathroom the moment the door creaked open.
Rosalie stepped out first, her expression unreadable—but not alarmed. Steam billowed out above her, reaching for the ceiling. Just behind her, Zoe emerged, dwarfed in a hotel bathrobe, her still-damp hair clinging to her cheeks. The robe hung from her frame like armor she wasn’t sure how to wear.
Zoe’s gaze darted past everyone in the room until it landed on Jenna. Her breath caught.
She moved—fast, but not supernaturally so—crossing the room in three strides and reaching Leah with hands outstretched.
Leah passed Jenna over without a word.
The baby let out a hiccuping breath just before she nestled into Zoe’s shoulder. And for the first time since the Cullens had found them, both Zoe and her daughter visibly exhaled. Their bodies softened in tandem, a matched release of tension. As if they'd been holding each other up from opposite ends of a fracture.
Zoe swayed gently, rocking her daughter. “Hey, life sucker,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to Jenna’s temple. “We’re okay. We’re safe.”
Leah stepped back, giving them space. Everyone else stayed still.
“She’s right,” Rosalie said softly, turning back to Carlisle. “She’s… fine.”
Carlisle nodded slowly. But inside, his mind spun.
He studied the way Zoe cradled the child. Her posture. Her breath. Her aura. There was no denying it—not to himself. Not anymore.
The impossible truth carved itself into place with horrifying clarity: Zoe Clark didn’t just resemble his wife.
She was his mate.
Again.
A second mate. A second pull. As a vampire, it was supposed to be impossible.
And yet there she stood—alive and unknowingly holding his entire world within herself.
Carlisle said nothing.
But something inside him changed.
Alice breezed into the hotel suite with her usual flourish, a department store bag in each arm and a diaper bag swinging from one shoulder.
"Mission accomplished," she announced brightly. "Clothes for Zoe—soft cotton, nothing flashy—diapers, formula, wipes, and the keys to three rented cars waiting downstairs. Oh, and snacks." She tosses a bag towards Seth with a wink.
She dropped the bags gently on the coffee table and then paused, eyes narrowing. “She’s still in the bathroom?”
Rosalie shakes her head. “She’s laying down with the baby. We didn’t know how long you’d be.” Her voice was softer than usual.
Alice's brow furrowed. “I'll check in after she’s settled,” she murmured, heading toward the kitchenette to sort supplies.
Carlisle lingered near the hallway, watching the closed door to the bedroom as if it might disappear. His hands were folded, but one thumb tapped idly against the other—a tell Rosalie hadn’t seen in decades.
She moved beside him. “You okay?”
He blinked, startled out of thought. “Hmm?”
“You haven’t said more than ten words since Zoe went to shower.” Rosalie’s voice was low, careful. “She’s alive, Carlisle. They’re both okay.”
“I know.” He nodded, but the tap-tap of his thumb resumed.
Rosalie leaned against the wall next to him, folding her arms. “Is this about the blood? The healing? Because yeah, I saw it too. She shouldn’t be able to heal like that.”
Carlisle exhaled slowly. “No... I mean, yes, but it’s not just that.”
Rosalie’s eyes narrowed. “Then what is it?”
He hesitated, gaze locked on the bedroom door. “Have you ever heard of a vampire having more than one mate?”
Rosalie stiffened. “No. That’s not... possible. Is it?”
“I thought not.” Carlisle’s voice was barely a whisper. “But when I look at her… it’s like something in me recognizes her. Not just visually, not just because of the resemblance. It’s deeper. Immediate. And when she was gone—” His voice broke off. He looked away.
Rosalie, to her credit, didn’t dismiss it. She looked back toward the bedroom, expression troubled.
“She hasn’t said anything,” she admitted quietly. “Not about any of it. She’s been quiet. Shaky. Like she’s balancing on a cliff edge.”
“She’s not just shaken,” Carlisle said, voice edged with something she almost didn’t recognize. Fear. “She’s unraveling. And I don’t know what that means for her… or for us.”
Rosalie looked at him for a long moment. “Then maybe we need to tread carefully. Let her come to us. She needs to feel safe first.”
Carlisle nodded, the tension in his frame coiled tight. “Yes,” he murmured. “Safe.”
And behind the door, the faint rustle of fabric and the soft whimper of a baby reminded them both: Zoe Clark may have survived the nightmare—but she hadn’t come out unscathed.
A quiet knock sounded at the door.
Zoe’s voice was soft, barely above a whisper. “Come in.”
Edward stepped inside, his movements careful, as if afraid to disturb the silence. His eyes immediately found her—curled up in the corner of the room, her knees drawn to her chest, arms cradling the sleeping form of Jenna. The baby’s tiny fist clutched the hem of Zoe’s borrowed bathrobe, her breath even and peaceful against Zoe’s collarbone.
Edward glanced at the empty bed. “No bed?” he asked lightly, setting the folded clothes Alice had brought on the dresser. He closed the door gently behind him.
Zoe didn’t look up. “Too open,” she said simply. “Life Sucker likes to sleep on me anyway.”
A faint smile touched Edward’s lips. “Alice came back—with clothes, diapers, formula. She even found cars. We can leave for Forks whenever you’re ready.”
Zoe nodded, her gaze fixed on Jenna’s hair. “That’s it?” she murmured. “No questions?”
Edward paused. “Bella asked me to make sure no one pushes you. She’s worried. We all are.” He hesitated. “Carlisle’s respecting your space. No interrogation. Just... one question. If you’ll allow it.”
Zoe finally met his eyes, guarded. “Depends.”
“Are you safe?” Edward asked gently. “From Katherine?”
Zoe blinked, startled by the specificity. “I think so. From Katherine anyway.”
Edward’s brows drew together. “But not safe in general?”
Zoe looked away, jaw tight. The room was quiet except for Jenna’s soft breaths and the distant hum of hotel traffic below.
Edward waited.
Zoe’s voice cracked when it came. “I don’t think anyone’s going to be able to help me, Edward.” Somehow, in some cruel twist of the supernatural lottery, Zoe became the only vampire hybrid who could still sire Klaus’ hybrids. It wasn’t fair.
His expression softened with concern, but he said nothing, letting her speak.
“It’s complicated,” she said. “And maybe... it’s not something that can be fixed. I just want to go home.”
Edward nodded, his voice steady. “We can help with that.”
Zoe closed her eyes again, her fingers brushing gently across Jenna’s back, and didn’t say another word.
The soft crunch of tires on gravel broke the stillness of the night. A car eased to a stop in front of the Swan house, headlights sweeping across the porch before cutting off. The lights on the dashboard lit up to read 2:34 AM .
The front door opened almost immediately. Charlie stepped out first, pulling on his jacket against the chill. Bella followed close behind, clutching the edge of her sweater. And then Damon—half a step behind them, restless, his whole frame coiled like a spring. His jaw was locked tight, but his eyes—his eyes were wild with something that looked an awful lot like fear. He looked like he hadn’t breathed in hours.
Inside the car, it was silent.
Carlisle sat behind the wheel, hands still on the steering wheel, his face unreadable. Edward stared straight ahead in the passenger seat, jaw clenched, shoulders stiff. In the backseat, Zoe sat with Jenna clutched tight to her chest. Rosalie sat beside her, one hand gently resting on Zoe’s back.
Carlisle was the first to move. He stepped out and opened the back door.
Zoe stepped out slowly, barefoot, wearing a pair of soft sweatpants and a hoodie Alice had found at a 24-hour drugstore. Jenna was wrapped in Rosalie’s coat, snuggled into Zoe’s chest. Edward and Rosalie followed, quiet shadows behind her.
Zoe’s eyes lifted to the porch—and the moment she saw Damon, she broke.
Her breath caught. “Damon?”
He didn’t answer. He was already moving, down the steps so fast Charlie’s hand shot out to block him. Damon shrugged him off like he wasn’t even there, his eyes locked on Zoe as if she were the only person alive.
The Cullens froze, tense as Damon stalked toward them, his gaze locked on Zoe and the child in her arms. He looked dangerous—uncontrolled—like a predator closing in. Carlisle angled forward half a step, Rosalie shifted closer to Zoe. Protective, instinctive.
But Damon’s fury melted the moment he reached her.
“Jesus, Zo,” he muttered, grabbing her by the neck and pulling her into his chest. One hand cradled the back of her head, the other wrapped around both her and Jenna. The baby gave a soft, startled whimper, then settled again.
“You don’t get to do that to me,” Damon said, voice raw.
“I’m sorry.” Zoe sobbed against his chest. “I’m so, so sorry.”
Her body sagged in his arms, like the fight drained out of her the second she felt him there. For the first time all night, she let herself lean. Damon bent his head, pressing his cheek to her wild, still damp hair, his lips moving against her crown like a frantic prayer no one else could hear. His free hand brushed Jenna’s back, checking her quickly, softly, like he needed proof she was breathing. When the baby stirred, Damon exhaled sharply in relief, clutching them both tighter.
Behind them, Carlisle watched silently. His eyes stayed on the way Damon held her—the protectiveness, the desperation—and something cold and tight twisted in his chest. He should have been the one to bring her comfort. He should have been the one she fell into like that. Instead, he stood outside the circle, watching another man hold her together.
Rosalie bristled, every line of her body taut. She didn’t trust anyone with Zoe—not now, not after finding her bleeding and broken. And certainly not this stranger. She hovered half a step closer, her jaw set, as though she could snatch Zoe back if Damon squeezed too tight.
Edward’s head tilted sharply, his nostrils flaring. Damon’s thoughts hit like glass shards, jagged and fast, impossible to miss. She looks like hell. And they call themselves protectors? Some family. If I’d been here—no, don’t go there. Can’t lose her again. Not her, not Life Sucker. Not ever. The words twisted darker, sharper. And these Brady Bunch wannabes think they’re safe for her? Please. They’ll smile, they’ll play house, and they’ll break her. I should drag her back to Mystic Falls before they finish the job. Sarcasm edged even the fear: Yeah, because that’d go over real well. Still better than this circus.
Edward’s jaw locked, a low hiss curling at the back of his throat before he smothered it. He didn’t speak, but his whole frame vibrated with the effort of restraint.
Bella exhaled and moved quickly to Edward, hugging him tightly. She whispered something into his shoulder that only he could hear.
Charlie walked stiffly over to Carlisle. He hesitated before offering his hand. “Thanks for bringing them home,” he said, voice low and sincere. “Both of them.”
Carlisle met his eyes and nodded. “Of course.”
But even as he spoke, his gaze drifted back to Zoe in Damon’s arms—pale, trembling, clinging to him like she’d drown without his grip. And for the first time in centuries, Carlisle felt truly uncertain. Rosalie’s hand twitched at her side, like she might reach for Zoe. Edward’s eyes burned. And Damon? Damon just held her like he had no intention of ever letting go.