Original Cullen, klaus mikaelson

The air in Volterra Castle was thick with ancient power and unspoken tension. Juliet Mikaelson, four months pregnant with twin boys, walked hand in hand with her husband, Klaus, through the ornate halls. Her mind, however, was miles away, wrestling with a name she'd just heard: Cullen. A name from a past she thought long buried.

Her family, the Originals, moved with an effortless grace that spoke of centuries of dominance. Elijah, Kol, and Rebekah, their expressions a mixture of boredom and predatory anticipation, followed the Volturi leaders. This wasn't a social call; it was a demonstration of power, a reminder of who truly ruled.

"Did you say, Cullen?" Klaus's voice had been a low rumble beside her, cutting through the shock. The question, asked on her behalf, echoed the turmoil in her heart. Carlisle. Could he truly be alive?

Now, standing amidst the grandeur of the Volturi's domain, Juliet felt a familiar ache, a knot of old grief and fresh anger. The thought of her father, the man she'd mourned for centuries, being alive and part of this world, was almost too much to bear. She squeezed Klaus's hand, seeking reassurance.

"Nik, can we go outside? I need to catch my breath." Her voice was barely a whisper, yet in the quiet intensity of the moment, it carried. She rubbed her swollen belly, feeling the gentle flutter of her unborn sons. This new life, so precious, only intensified the weight of her past. She wasn't that abandoned little girl anymore. She was a wife, a mother, a queen.