Twilight: blood & brimstone

The moment Bella sat upon the throne, the world around her shifted.

Not just the sky.

Not just the air.

Everything.

It was as if the very fabric of this reality had been waiting for her to take her place. The ground pulsed beneath her feet, the black stone of the throne humming with something ancient.

Something that recognized her.

That claimed her.

The demon stood beside her, watching as the transformation settled. His eyes, endless pits of fire and knowing, were alight with something deeper than amusement.

Pride.

Satisfaction.

Victory.

Bella inhaled, and the air tasted different—thicker, charged with power that coiled inside her lungs, filled her veins like molten metal.

And yet, she wasn't afraid.

Because she knew.

This was always where she was meant to be.

The First Whisper of Power

Her fingers traced the arms of the throne, the smooth obsidian warm beneath her fingertips. A throne of death, of sin, of something older than any story told to humankind.

It recognized her as its ruler.

And it submitted.

She felt it then—her first true taste of power.

It wasn't like Edward's unnatural strength or Alice's glimpses into the future.

It was absolute.

Limitless.

A force that did not need permission, did not need explanation. It was.

And Bella had never felt more alive.

The demon stepped forward, his presence wrapping around her like a living shadow.

"Tell me," he murmured, voice deep with satisfaction, "what do you feel?"

Bella's lips curled.

'Power.'

It wasn't a word.

It wasn't even a thought.

It was a truth.

And the throne beneath her thrummed in agreement.

The demon chuckled, pleased. "Good."

A New Purpose

Bella's fingers curled around the edges of the throne, testing its weight. She was no longer just sitting.

She was commanding.

The air around her responded, shifting like a living thing. The shadows moved—not his shadows, not the ones that had followed him from the beginning.

Hers.

Her own presence was stretching, weaving itself into the very foundation of this place.

The demon watched, his smirk deepening. "You feel it, don't you?"

Bella exhaled.

'Yes.'

Because she wasn't just powerful.

She was in control.

And for the first time, she saw what that truly meant.

She turned her gaze to him, and for once, he wasn't the only predator in the room.

"What now?" she asked, her voice smooth, steady.

The demon leaned in, his fingers ghosting over the edge of the throne, as if offering something.

"We begin," he said. "The Cullens are grieving you. They think they've lost you." His smirk sharpened. "But they have no idea what they've unleashed."

Bella's eyes darkened.

The Cullens.

Edward.

Alice's tear-filled gaze.

Rosalie's silence.

Jasper's resigned expression, as if he had always known she was beyond saving.

They thought she was gone.

But they didn't understand.

She wasn't gone.

She had finally arrived.

The Beginning of the End

Bella rose from the throne, her movements fluid, effortless.

Power curled around her with every step, the shadows responding without her asking.

She was no longer a girl caught between worlds.

She was the world now.

And it was time for everyone to know it.

The demon watched with something bordering on admiration.

"You are perfect," he murmured.

Bella smiled—slow, knowing, filled with something far more dangerous than innocence.

"I know."

She lifted a hand, testing her control—

And the sky shattered.

The very fabric of this place, this realm, cracked like glass, sending ripples through the infinite.

It was effortless.

It was hers.

The demon grinned.

The world wasn't ready for her.

And that was exactly the point.