Alex couldn't have cared less about being ignored.
In fact, the lack of attention suited him just fine.
No forced small talk. No sycophantic flattery. No one trying to use him for their political games.
Peace and quiet.
For him, it was a blessing.
But for Marcus, Victor, and Amelia, it was anything but.
They stood together near the center of the hall, maintaining dignified expressions, but inwardly, tension coiled tight in their chests like a noose.
This wasn't how it was supposed to go.
They had hoped—no, counted on—the rise of a new Supreme to restore the Corvinus clan's status in the immortal hierarchy. It was meant to be a moment of resurgence. Redemption.
Yet now?
The ceremony hadn't even officially begun, and they had already offended Aro—one of the most politically dangerous beings in the room.
Aro hadn't needed to raise his voice, draw a weapon, or make a threat.
He hadn't needed to say anything at all.
The silence from the other clans said it all.
Without a word, every family present had begun to give them the cold shoulder, as if associating with them might incur the Volturi's ire.
Damn it.
The gravity of the situation wasn't lost on any of the elders.
But what could they do?
Ask Alex to apologize?
To bow to Aro in front of every Supreme?
They glanced toward their new Supreme, who sat calmly, unbothered, as if none of this mattered.
They knew him well enough by now: that was never going to happen.
And even if, by some miracle, he agreed… it would destroy the clan's credibility forever.
Apologizing now would be worse than the original offense.
It was a trap with no exit.
A lose-lose scenario.
---
Meanwhile, in the Cullen family's section, tension simmered.
"He doesn't even respect Aro?" Emmett whispered, incredulous.
"That guy actually humiliated Aro in front of everyone," Rosalie murmured, glancing toward Alex as if trying to reassess everything she thought she knew about him.
Even someone as volatile as Niklaus—known for flying off the handle at the slightest provocation—would never dare challenge Aro like that.
Yet this mortal—this human—had done it casually, with no visible hesitation.
And he'd walked away untouched.
Combined with Alice's earlier terror, the Cullens could feel it deep in their bones:
Something was off.
Something big was coming.
---
"Supreme One, it's time for the ceremony."
Amid the suffocating atmosphere, Marcus approached Alex and offered a respectful nod.
Alex returned it with a slight tilt of his head, rising from his seat.
His footsteps echoed with composed authority as he made his way toward the center of the hall.
Marcus stepped onto the raised platform, the ceremonial heart of the hall, elevated and surrounded by a wide circular formation of ancient runes carved into obsidian.
All eyes turned to him.
The murmurs ceased. The air grew still.
Marcus cleared his throat, his voice cutting through the silence like the peal of a bell.
"Fellow immortals, I, Marcus Corvinus, welcome you all on behalf of our clan. We sincerely thank you for your support."
His tone was deep and resonant, carrying with the weight of age and lineage.
"As you all know, for centuries, our clan has existed in a… complicated relationship with our Progenitor, Alexander Corvinus. Rather than lead, he preferred solitude. The sea called to him more than his bloodline ever did."
A few in the crowd shifted uncomfortably. Everyone knew this. But Marcus's honesty caught their attention.
"Yes, it's shameful," Marcus continued, voice unwavering. "But there's no point hiding what you already know—Alexander abandoned us."
His eyes hardened.
"He was my father. And yet, he cast us aside."
The room held its breath.
"But by the Progenitor's grace, that shame ends today. Our clan has welcomed a new Supreme."
A murmur rippled across the crowd.
"We've gathered you here to bear witness: from this moment, the Corvinus Clan is no more."
A hush fell over the room.
"In its place stands… the Alex Clan!"
Marcus's declaration rang with finality, echoing off the stone walls of the chamber.
He hadn't sugarcoated it. He hadn't begged for approval.
He had simply drawn a line in history—bold, irrevocable.
"Now, let us welcome Supreme Alex to receive the Clan Leader's Crest!"
As he spoke, Victor and Amelia stepped forward from either side, joining Marcus on the platform. Without hesitation, they dropped to one knee before it.
In the hall's quiet reverence, Alex adjusted his collar slightly and walked forward, his pace unhurried, every step radiating certainty.
From the far end of the platform, Kraven, the clan's steward, emerged with an ornate obsidian tray. Upon it rested the newly forged crest of the Alex Clan—a symbol that would mark the beginning of a new dynasty.
Marcus accepted it reverently, lifting it high for all to see before presenting it to Alex with both hands.
Alex took it with little flourish, yet somehow, the simplicity only emphasized his dominance.
Kraven stepped forward, carefully pinning the crest onto Alex's attire, his hands trembling slightly as he did so.
The hall remained silent.
When the crest was secured, Marcus and the other elders stood as one.
"Esteemed guests, Supreme Alex has been recognized as our clan's leader. Though he has yet to undergo the transformation, by our laws, he is entitled to the title of Supreme—equal to all other clan leaders."
"The immortals shall gain a new Supreme this day!"
He let the words settle before continuing.
"Does any clan here object to this proclamation?"
"If none, we shall invite Leader Aro of the Volturi to bestow the Supreme Crest upon him."
Traditionally, this was a routine declaration—mere ritual.
Even if some found the idea of a mortal Supreme absurd, they wouldn't object. Internal affairs were internal affairs. No one wanted to cross Marcus's clan without reason.
But today?
---
"Who says there's no objection?"
A voice as smooth as oil yet sharp as broken glass cut through the ceremony like a blade.
Whoosh.
The crowd turned.
A figure stood casually at the entrance—shoulders slouched, hands in his pockets, wild curls falling around his face like a lion's mane.
He wore loose, casual clothes as though he'd just wandered in from a street fight, not an immortal gathering.
But his smirk… that smirk oozed with derision and arrogance.
It was a face that made tempers flare and hearts race.
Niklaus.
He had arrived.
The so-called "Strongest Supreme."
Though the title was… complicated. More honorary than absolute. In truth, Aro could likely defeat him. Perhaps even one or two of the more elite Volturi guards could push him to his limits.
But still—
Niklaus's reputation wasn't hollow.
He was wild, unpredictable, and known for leaving trails of bodies behind when offended.
And this? This was a declaration of war.
Marcus's face turned cold.
Victor's jaw clenched.
Amelia's eyes narrowed to slits.
None of them had invited Niklaus.
And now, here he was—crashing the ceremony with a smirk and a challenge.
The entire hall stiffened.
Across the crowd, amused smirks began to appear.
The real show had just begun.
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