Incurable Love

Chapter 10

Castor's army marched forward in the dead of night at his order. Several groups split off into different directions, each of them taking their own corner of the world, leaving Greece behind without a second glance. Death, destruction, and raging fires stalked them as they scoured every inch of their world, ridding them of the filth they had let grow, like a parasite, right underneath their noses. They did their duty to cleanse their world, a few of their kind making the ultimate sacrifice for their victory; the cost of their very lives. Finally, Castor thought to himself as he stared at the second to last werewolf in existence. It's disgusting yellow eyes stared into Castor's soul right before it's head was torn from it's body. As the carcass is set alight, Castor declared victory to his gathered army before dismissing them and casually strolling away, holding his beloved's arm in the crook of his right elbow as they make their way to Italy.

Only one left.

~IL~

46 hours.

Carlisle scrambled to get everything together, collecting all the blood, venom, and alcohol he could get his hands on, while frantically flipping through his journals, determined to not miss anything, no matter how insignificant it may have seemed at the time he recorded it.

34 hours.

Carlisle had been forced to gather more venom from a few of the Volturi guard after he had taken all he could from his own body. He was still weak from being torn to pieces. But another problem arose as well. He wasn't sure how much werewolf blood he could draw from the poor man lying on his table before it became fatal.

27 hours.

Thankfully, as Carlisle started to panic, thinking he had run out of werewolf blood to test on, the man had managed to regenerate more after he was force fed scraps of bloody meat by Felix. Carlisle couldn't stop himself from mentally ticking down the seconds as he drew even more blood. A day had almost passed and he was no where near halfway done yet. There were still so many possible combinations to test.

18 hours.

After requesting immediate assistance from one of his guards, Demetri was shoved into the corner of the room with the flea glasses. His job was to observe the effects of Carlisle's serums on the werewolf blood and report it, while Carlisle focused solely on creating the serums, saving the hours he didn't have to observe the reactions himself.

12 hours.

Demetri glanced up from the blood, shaking his head negatively. Yet another failure. Carlisle pinched the bridge of his nose, his anxiety and stress continuously climbing to alarming levels as the possible combinations dropped lower and lower with no cure in sight. But he had to push on. Despite the hours flying by, they were making good progress, he couldn't give up now. He rolled up his sleeves, grabbed the last bottle alcohol they had on hand, and got to work.

5 hours.

Thankfully Felix had arrived a few hours earlier with another crate filled with all kinds of alcoholic beverages just as they ran out. Empty bottles were scattered across the entire room; some lying sideways on the cold stone floor, some had rolled off the table and shattered, and a few remained in the crate. The place looked more like a den belonging to that of a drunkard than a laboratory anymore.

1 hour.

After a long and stressful forty-seven hours, Carlisle managed to create the best combination possible of the vampire venom, alcohol, and anesthetic. Even being the best didn't mean it was any good either. He honestly had no idea if the young man would survive. But he was out of time, his hours had ticked by too fast. This was his last chance. He dismissed Demetri, having no need for him anymore. Holding his breath and sending a prayer, he injected the serum directly into the man's heart, deducing that to be the best point of entry and for it to spread as fast as possible.

1 minute.

Carlisle reached over and closed the man's eyelids, covering his empty eyes a few minutes after his heart gave out, admitting defeat as his last minute ticked down. He had failed. Despite the effects alcohol had on werewolf venom, the dosage needed to completely take over the venom and replace with vampire venom was just too large for anyone's body to handle. If the dosage was any smaller, the effects would wear off too quickly and the host would be torn apart from the inside out.

He absentmindedly started to clean the mess he made in his rush, stacking the scraps of paper and journals on top of each other, wiping away the blood and venom from the floors and tables, putting away the equipment, and sweeping up the empty bottles and shards.

He made the decision to stay in his laboratory, not having the heart to inform Aro of his failure... or witness Annabelle's execution from her own mates.

~IL~

They hadn't left her side – they couldn't – knowing that these precious hours were all they were ever going to have with their mate. For once, she was calm; her usual whines and cries were silent, her limbs lay limp in their arms, her eyes closed, as if she knew. There was a chance she did. Perhaps Annabelle was still aware, somehow. With every steadily passing hour, their wavering hope completely faded until there was nothing left but grief, and the pain they knew that was coming. They ordered their guard under no circumstances were they to be disturbed, even if the world was burning, even if the sky was falling – they were to be left in peace to grieve what they had lost so cruelly.

It's time. Aro thought to himself. Forty-eight hours had passed exactly. Carlisle wasn't here, and neither his brothers or himself could hear the heartbeat of his test subject anymore. He had failed. They all had.

Aro was kneeling directly in front of Annabelle's head, his right hand cradling the right side of her face, and his left cradling her left side. Marcus was cradling her right side with Caius on her left. Her eyes were closed, but she wasn't asleep. Aro was thankful for that. He didn't think he could look her in the eyes as he took her life...

Every fiber of his being screamed at him in protest as he steeled himself for what he was about to do. He hoped the day he was finally bested, dismembered and thrown into the flames, he ended up in hell for what he was about to do. He would deserved it – welcome it even.

"I'm so sorry my love," Aro whispered, his eyes filled with tears that could never fall. His hands, that were gripping the sides of her face, twitched as he took a deep breath and forced his mind clear. Letting out one final breath, he closed his eyes.

Crack!

Her neck snapped like a broken twig, killing her as painlessly as possible; the horrible crunch echoing in their ears as their hearts grew cold and their chests seized painfully. She was gone, and their bond had died along with her.

It was over.

They wouldn't feel the full force of the pain vampires usually feel when losing their mates, because their bond had never been completed. But as Aro's eyes shot open and he looked into the eyes of his brothers, he knew he truly was already in hell.

~IL~

They had buried Annabelle not a few hours ago when Jane entered the throne room.

"Master, Castor and his mate Agata have arrived, what should we do?"

Silence greeted her.

She waited for their orders but they didn't even twitch. Marcus had seemed to recede back into that state he had been in after the death of Didyme, his expression blank, his hollow eyes unfocused, his mind thousands of miles away. Caius was gripping the seat of his chair so tightly it had cracked in several places, running all the way up to the top of his throne and back down again. But besides that, he showed no emotion. No rage, no anger, nothing. His face was as blank as Marcus's and his eyes just as dead. Aro had both his hands clasped together, his legs crossed, his lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes sharp with pain though they only stared at one specific spot on the wall.

Jane nervously glanced around the room, looking at the rest of the guard as their masters said nothing. It looked like they hadn't even acknowledged Jane's existence.

"Master?" Jane tried again.

"Do whatever you want," Aro's voice slammed into them when they heard just how dead he sounded, some of them even stumbling back in shock. He carelessly waved them off, not even turning his head to look at any of them. Nothing mattered anymore. Castor could come in here and slaughter them all for all he cared.

After realizing that he was in fact serious, Jane walked back out to address Castor and Agata and convince them their masters where too busy to see them.

"So, is the creature dead?" Castor asked as he strode into the room with his wife hanging off his right arm, an irritated Jane following behind the two. She tried to insist they leave, but Castor wouldn't hear of it. Jane had been very tempted to use her gift on them, but at the last moment decided to let them through, thinking it would be best if Castor got what he came for and left on his own.

"I killed her," Aro whispered, his broken and empty gaze never faltering from the wall. He barely had the will to speak anymore.

"My associates and I have taken care of every last child of the moon. They're gone." Castor informed the undead statues sitting in their thrones. "Shall I assume it'll take some time before you're ready to take on the burden of the throne?"

After a few minutes with no response from any of the kings, he nodded to himself.

"I shall do my duty in helping you uphold the laws for now, and take up a temporary place as an adviser." Castor announced, willing to share the burden with them until they managed their loss. Even after all that's happened, he was still loyal to them, even more so now that they had actually killed their own mate to protect their kind.

There was no objection, not that he expected any. Castor and his wife left soon after, to spread his influence as far as he could while assuring all he came in contact with that the Volturi were stronger than ever, desperately trying to help keep the peace.

~IL~

"I'm sorry," Carlisle didn't know what else to say as he stood before them.

Aro's lips barely parted as he thanked Carlisle for his efforts and granted him to leave at his own leisure, never once looking at him, his voice flat. Carlisle bowed, before leaving the three bothers on their thrones to mourn.

As he strode along the halls, he couldn't stop the guilt building up in his chest at his failure. But in any case, it no longer mattered. He heard Castor and his proud admittance to genocide. Having no purpose here, he decided not to linger in Volterra. He made the decision to start afresh far, far away from here, and began his journey to the new world.

Aro almost sighed as he watched his old friend leave out of the corner of his eye.

In the end, there was nothing anyone could've done. The moment Annabelle had been infected was the moment she had died. They made it worse by clinging onto false hope. It destroyed them in the end, making her tragic death all the more excruciating and permanently infecting their cold hearts with forever lasting, unwavering, agonizing, incurable love.

A/N: I'm sorry :(

I know most of you were expecting Carlisle to find a cure for the finale but I had this ending planned before I even wrote the first chapter. Annabelle was destined to die. I don't plan on doing another story at the current moment since real life has caught up to me. My depression has taken a turn for the worse and now I'm just concerned with keeping my head above water. I apologize once again for how long it took me to finish this and thanks for sticking around. So thank you guys for your endless support and lovely reviews on all of my work. I love you all and I hope to see you guys again one day.