THE TENSION IN THE AIR WAS DETECTABLE as Dad and the Romanian coven locked eyes in a stare-down. The deep burgundy eyes of Vladimir and Stefan taunted Dad's golden orbs, daring him to make a move. The Irish coven stood back, watching the scene unfold with bated breath.

Vladimir was the first to break the silence, his voice smooth yet dripping with taunts. "Well, well, well. Look who's got a coven of his own," he said, his eyes flickering over to Stefan.

Stefan tilted his head in agreement. "Gabriel has certainly come a long way," he said, his voice laced with sarcasm.

Dad sighed and stepped forward, trying to diffuse the tension. "Vladimir, Stefan," he greeted them. "It's been a while since we last met."

"Indeed it has," Vladimir replied, his smile fake and mocking. "We've travelled far to see you."

Stefan's eyes narrowed. "We know you used to work for the Italians," he said accusingly. "What made you leave them?"

Dad remained calm. "I left centuries ago," he said simply.

Vladimir chuckled. "And why's that? It isn't for control or power, is it?"

Dad looked sadly at them, knowing that he couldn't reveal the true reason for his departure. I watched as the Romanian coven turned their attention to us, their eyes scanning our group.

"Let me guess," Vladimir said, his voice dripping with amusement. "Some of them have powers of their own."

Joseph spoke up, trying to deflect the attention away from us. "Hey, I'm not helping you guess which one," he said, trying to lighten the mood.

Dad's voice boomed across the clearing. "Enough, Vladimir. We're not here to fight."

Vladimir laughed, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, Gabriel. Always so aggressive," he said, adding insult to injury.

The stare-down continued, the tension mounting with each passing moment. It was clear that this was only the beginning of a long and difficult battle.

"We're merely suggesting that we have a certain level of familiarity with the Volturi," Stefan spoke softly, his words laced with a hint of caution. "Especially when it comes to vampires with extraordinary abilities."

Dad's emeanour shifted, his once composed facade crumbling before my eyes. The mere mention of the Volturi had the power to reduce him to a shell of his former self.

"I'm sure you're well aware of their reputation," Stefan murmured, his voice tinged with a dark edge. "Thanks to the infamous witch twins."

"The witch twins?" Simon's voice cut through the tense silence.

"Jane and Alec," Dadreplied, his eyes never leaving the two vampires before him.

The room was consumed by an eerie stillness as Vladimir and Stefan exchanged a knowing glance. Dad remained frozen in place, his gaze fixed on the pair before him. Vladimir's deathly stare bore into him, a silent warning of the danger that lurked in the shadows.

"Do you really want to risk losing any of them like we did?" Vladimir's voice cut through the tense silence, his eyes piercing into each of us.

Dad's golden eyes narrowed, his hands clenched into fists. The table shifted slightly, as if it were about to launch itself at the Romanians.

Stefan stood with his hands in his pockets, a smug expression on his face. "To be perfectly honest," he drawled, "we hope that this controversy caused by the child will finally destroy the Volturi."

I felt a surge of anger rise within me, my hair lifting slightly and my teeth grinding together. "We're not fighting them," my father said firmly. "We'll tell them it was just a misunderstanding."

"But it's not Renesmee's fault," I interjected. "It was-"

"We don't care whose fault it was, girl," Stefan interrupted, his tone dismissive.

"Well, you should care," I retorted, folding my arms across my chest. "We're all here right now because of it."

"You senseless child!" Vladimir bellowed, his face turning red with anger.

"Don't yell at my daughter!" Dad's voice thundered through the room, and the table lifted off the ground, hurtling towards the Romanians.

Stefan caught the table with ease, throwing it to the ground with a loud crash. My father referred to me as his daughter, and I couldn't help but feel a small smile tug at the corners of my lips. But the Romanians were chuckling, their eyes glinting with amusement.

"Daughter, huh?" Vladimir sneered. "By that, you mean you turned her?"

"She joined as a newborn," my father explained, his voice calm and measured.

"Really? You both look so alike," Stefan remarked, his eyes flickering between us.

"They do?" Ethan asked, his voice filled with confusion.

"Ethan, I don't want any word out of you," Alana snapped, her eyes flashing with anger.

"Ah, but there's one small, minuscule detail," Stefan drawled, his voice dripping with sly amusement. "Are you prepared to sacrifice your entire coven for it?"

Vladimir interjected with a sharp retort, his words slicing through the tense air like a knife. "Just like we lost ours?"

In an instant, the atmosphere shifted from uneasy to downright hostile. Dad lunged forward, his teeth bared in a feral snarl, and the Romanian vampires responded with a menacing growl as they charged towards him.

Helpless, we could only watch as he engaged in a fierce battle with his opponents. He moved with the grace and precision of a seasoned warrior, his movements fluid and calculated as he fought tooth and nail.

In the days of his vampire youth, Dad was a guard in the Volturi, fighting for power against the likes of Vladimir and Stefan. In the heat of battle, he landed a punch on Vladimir's stomach, but the Romanian retaliated by grabbing hold of his face and pushing him away. Stefan then kicked my father in the chest, causing him to stumble back.

Undeterred, Dad stretched out his hands and sent his opponents flying back into the wall, their backs colliding with a resounding thud. They sneered at him, but my father was not one to back down from a challenge. The Romanians charged at him, pushing him with all their might.

Dad turned on them, swinging blindly and trying to smash their faces in. He kicked at their legs, elbowed them, and beat them with his whole body. Despite being twice their size, the Romanians surprised him with their ferocity. Dad fell over a bench, but Joseph joined in the fight, his fists a blur as he punched the Romanians over and over again. His face was scrunched up in fury, like a raging bull, while Rhona screamed at him to stop.

"Cease this madness!" Mum's voice boomed through the room, her eyes blazing with a fierce determination.

Dad and Joseph stood their ground, their bodies tense and ready for the onslaught of the Romanian vampires. But despite their efforts, the bloodthirsty creatures slithered through their defenses like a serpent through the grass.

Vladimir's hand connected with Dad's face, the force of the blow nearly sending him crashing to the ground. "I'm sorry!" he cried out, his voice filled with desperation.

"Gabriel!" Joseph's voice was a thunderous roar, his eyes blazing with fury.

The skin on Dad's throat was raw and bleeding, but even as we watched, it began to knit itself back together. "I'm sorry," he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Too late," Vladimir sneered, his eyes glittering with malice.

"Fifteen hundred years too late," Stefan added, his voice dripping with venom.

I glared at the Romanian vampires, my heart filled with bitterness and anger. Mum looked like she was on the verge of tears, but she couldn't release them. There was none left to shed.

"But I am sorry!" Dad's voice was filled with desperation, his eyes pleading with the vampires to understand.

"He is sorry," Maggie's soft voice spoke up from the background, her eyes filled with compassion.

The Romanians snarled, their eyes flashing with rage. "You think apologising will change anything?" Stefan bellowed, his body coiled like a spring, ready to attack.

With a flick of my wrist, the purple force field erupted from my fingertips, crackling with energy. It surged forward, a blur of violet light, and slammed into Stefan's gut with a sickening thud. He crumpled to the ground, gasping for air, while Vladimir rushed to his side.

Stefan's eyes widened in shock as he struggled to catch his breath. "You see that?" he wheezed, his voice laced with disbelief.

Vladimir nodded, his expression awestruck. "Your daughter has a powerful gift," he murmured, his eyes flickering to me and my father.

Joseph beamed with pride. "We got our maxima right here," he declared, puffing out his chest.

Simon shot him a warning glance, but Stefan merely chuckled. "A maxima, huh?" he mused, his lips curling into a sly grin. "Well, if the child isn't going to destroy the Volturi, then perhaps she will."

Dad's oice was a thunderclap. "NO!" he roared, his eyes blazing with fury.

I felt a chill run down my spine. Destroy the Volturi? Was that really what they thought I was capable of? I didn't want to fight. I didn't want to hurt anyone. I just wanted to be a witness, to observe the world around me.

"What if we have to fight?" Ayla's voice whispered in my mind, her words echoing through the emptiness of my still heart.

I didn't know. I didn't know what I was going to do. All I knew was that I had a power, a gift, and that it was up to me to decide how to use it.

Dad's abrupt departure left us all reeling, our emotions raw and exposed. Mum's desperate attempt to reach him fell short as the door slammed shut, sealing off any chance of reconciliation. The weight of the moment hung heavy in the air, suffocating us with its intensity.

The Romanians, unaffected by the familial drama, stood stoically as we struggled to process what had just happened. Dad's trauma had resurfaced, triggered by something we couldn't quite grasp. His fighting and reaction had left us stunned, unsure of how to move forward.

Joseph tried to ease the tension. "It's okay," he said, his voice soft and reassuring. "Gabriel's on the roof. He didn't run away."

Vladimir, always quick with a quip, muttered to his friend, "That wouldn't be the first time."

I couldn't bear to stay in the living room any longer. I needed to find Gabriel, to make sure he was okay. Pushing past Vladimir and Stefan, I sprinted up the stairs and onto the roof.