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The group moved at high speed through the forest, branches and leaves crunching under their feet as Nate tried to slow his pace just enough not to pull too far ahead of the others, fully aware of the test that was about to begin. Their formation was carefully designed: Nate at the center, completely surrounded, the group watching every one of his movements and reactions. Kate remained directly behind him, close enough to reach him in a single leap, her hand always ready to grab the back of his neck and activate her Gift if necessary.
As they advanced, sunlight filtered through the treetops, casting shifting shadows that made every movement of the group look like part of a carefully choreographed dance. When they neared the edge of the forest, Tanya stopped abruptly. Instantly, the whole group mirrored her and halted too, forming a semicircle around Nate.
Tanya turned toward him, her voice calm yet firm: "The nearest town is about a kilometer ahead, but some people should already be close by around here. We'll begin the test now."
With a silent nod, Laurent and Eleazar each grabbed one of Nate's arms. For a moment, Nate almost flinched, reacting by instinct, but he drew a deep breath and held still, letting them restrain him. Kate approached with slow, steady steps and gently placed her hand on the back of Nate's neck. In a playful tone, she remarked, "It'd be so easy to get revenge for all those kicks you gave me… or that time you cut my arm off…"
Nate turned his head toward her, one brow raised, trying to figure out if she was serious. Kate laughed—an unusual sound coming from her, carefree and amused, completely unlike her usual severity. "Obviously, I won't, but I kind of hope you give me a reason to."
Nate decided to ignore the joke. With a small nod, he addressed Tanya: "I'm ready."
Carefully, they began to walk. Laurent and Eleazar kept their eyes fixed on his expression, their faces reflecting both concern and sharp alertness, as if they feared he might bolt toward the town at any second. Tanya stayed close to Eleazar, while Irina positioned herself just behind Laurent, ready to intervene if needed. Only Kate seemed utterly calm, completely confident in her Gift and in her ability to stop Nate with a single shock.
Nate moved visibly uneasy, all his senses on high alert. Tanya studied him for a moment before instructing softly: "Breathe in. Take in the scents around you."
Nate drew a deep breath, pushing his senses to the limit. The forest air brought the damp notes of earth and wood, but mingled within, faint and distant, were human traces drawing closer. His body reacted instantly—muscles tightening, reflexes sharpening—as the group around him braced, ready for any sudden move.
Without realizing it, Nate stepped forward. At once, Eleazar and Laurent exchanged a look, silently agreeing to tighten their hold on him. Tanya leaned in slightly, her voice calm and steady: "Easy… get familiar with the scent. If it feels overwhelming, stop breathing, close your eyes. We'll pull you away immediately."
Still distracted, Nate gave a faint nod. His trembling breath betrayed his doubt as he whispered, "I think… I can get closer."
The group traded quick glances, not entirely convinced, but moved forward anyway—slow, measured steps. Nate's senses overflowed with stimuli: the scent of people, warm and complex, mingled with the damp woods and the crunch of snow beneath his feet. In the distance, he could distinguish children's laughter and idle chatter, the forest amplifying the sounds as if they were within arm's reach, though he remained on its outskirts.
His vision sharpened—he could clearly make out the small park in town, children playing on a jungle gym, running and shrieking with joy. Nate tilted his head, a touch of nostalgia threading through his curiosity; the scene vaguely reminded him of his childhood, his father tossing a ball with him, those simple, laughter-filled moments that now felt impossibly distant.
As his mind drifted into memory, one child slipped and fell from the jungle gym. The snow cushioned the fall, but a small cut left a thin streak of red on a rock hidden beneath the snow. Nate instinctively inhaled the scent of the wound. It wasn't like the stored blood bags he had consumed before—this was warm, alive, unnervingly enticing. A burning tingle surged up his throat, and his body reacted instantly, moving with more determination toward the source.
The group's alarm flared at once. Laurent and Eleazar dug their heels into the snow, straining to act as anchors. Nate shot them a dark look, his arms bulging as he forced himself forward. For a moment, they held him back, but then step by step, he dragged them along, their strength no match for his newborn power.
Kate, her hand firm on the back of Nate's neck, her expression tense, called out urgently to Tanya: "He's moving forward… do I stop him now?"
Tanya hesitated for a second. Irina, clearly anxious, was already coiled to spring in, ready to help restrain him. Each step brought him closer to the road bordering the forest, Laurent and Eleazar barely holding their ground, knowing that one slip could unleash a newborn's full force.
Tanya shook her head with resolve, answering Kate's question. "Not yet… he hasn't lost control. Give him the chance." Her voice carried authority, calm against the rising urgency.
She stepped in front of Nate, pressing both hands against his shoulders. Her words came firm, heavy with authority: "You don't want to do this, Nate… you don't want to hurt innocent people… children… people with so much life ahead of them."
Nate heard her, but his feet kept pressing forward. Now he wasn't just dragging Laurent and Eleazar—he was also pushing Tanya slowly with him. His breathing quickened, tension rippling visibly through his muscles, every fiber of his body on the brink of giving in to his thirst.
Tanya, more urgently, leaned in closer and added: "Alice told me about your family… your parents, your grandmother, killed by vampires. That's not the kind of man you want to be, Nate. You don't want to become like the ones who murdered them, do you?"
For an instant, Nate froze. It wasn't guilt he felt, but a storm of rage and frustration. He shut his eyes and, with inhuman effort, cut off his breath. The scent of blood still pulled at him, but he forced all his strength into holding it back.
The group seized the moment. Laurent and Eleazar braced hard into the snow, and in the same instant, the others closed in around him. In a quick, urgent, coordinated move, they restrained him completely—each grabbing an arm, a leg, or shoving against his weight—and with a collective yank, dragged him backward with brute strength, almost at the speed of a heartbeat. Nate struggled briefly, muscles taut, jaw clenched, but he didn't fight their combined effort.
The icy air mixed with the ragged sound of his forced breathing as they hauled him away from the edge of the forest, away from the pull of human blood. Each step was relentless, the ground trembling beneath the power of so many vampires restraining one. Nate scowled, fury bubbling inside him, but this time he allowed himself to be dragged, pouring every drop of anger into resisting the urge to give in.
When they finally reached a small stream winding its way back toward the Denali home, the group stopped. Nate collapsed onto the snow, arms braced on his knees, panting hard. Each inhale was a deliberate attempt to draw in only the forest—wet earth, wood, cold water—trying to overwrite the burning call of blood still searing his throat.
Kate crossed her arms, eyeing him with both resignation and appraisal. Her voice cut firm, edged with mild frustration: "Would've been easier if I'd just paralyzed him…"
Tanya stepped forward, laying a hand on Kate's shoulder, her tone steady but commanding: "This isn't a game, Kate. Nate wants to learn to control his thirst, and I think today we made progress. Not everyone could hold back like that… We were lucky to be all together. One less, and maybe he'd have attacked the town."
Nate listened, Tanya's words circling in his head. A part of him knew it was true—the thirst had been overwhelming, the urge to lunge at those innocent people almost irresistible. The temptation still lingered like fading fire, but his conscience forced him to stay firm. He let out a long, heavy sigh—an act of sheer internal struggle. His whole life, he had been used to being in control, never letting impulse rule him, and yet now he had nearly slaughtered innocents, saved only by rage outmatching thirst.
At Tanya's signal, the group dispersed. One by one, with swift, light steps, they disappeared back into the forest toward the Denali house. Their final glances carried support and empathy. None of them had been born with control; each had fought the same battle, and they all recognized the weight of what Nate had just endured.
Once alone, Tanya sat beside him. She didn't speak right away. Instead, she looked up at the sky, letting the silence stretch between them like a balm. Nate kept breathing deeply, filling his senses with forest scents, until gradually the urgency began to fade.
Minutes passed before Tanya finally spoke. Her lips parted hesitantly, as if unsure whether to say it. At last, she sighed and admitted in a quiet but clear voice:
"Forgive me… I shouldn't have mentioned your parents. Alice told me so we could understand you better, not to use it against you."
Nate stayed still, gaze fixed on the stream winding before them. His eyes followed the water beneath the snow as if searching for balance in its flow. After a moment, he shook his head slowly.
"It's fine. It worked, after all. If you hadn't said it, things might've gone out of control."
She studied him in silence, trying to read beyond his composed expression. Then, with a note of approval in her voice, she said:
"In my opinion, this first test was a success. You've only been in this life for a few days, yet you managed to restrain yourself. You just need practice. With time, you won't need to be fully sated to be near humans. Even when thirsty, you'll be able to resist."
Nate turned to her, jaw tight, eyes set with cold determination.
"I hope so. I won't put Alice's way of life at risk for a mere impulse. And I'll never hurt an innocent because I lacked self-control."
Tanya gave a slight nod, softening the edge of his words. She tapped his arm gently, a small gesture of encouragement.
"If that's truly what you want, you should consider vegetarianism. Animal blood makes control easier, and after a few years, living among humans stops being torment. That's how we live… and the Cullens too."
He gave a calm nod, still gazing at the horizon.
"I've already talked to Alice about it. But for now, I'm not adopting that diet."
Tanya's expression hardened, a faint trace of resignation crossing her face.
"I hope you don't wait too long. This life has only ever given me good things: a big family, stability… and the certainty that I'm not a monster."
Nate didn't answer right away. His eyes stayed fixed on the stream, as if weighing every word. Finally, in a thoughtful murmur, he asked:
"If it has so many benefits, why don't all vampires follow that diet?"
The question seemed to unsettle Tanya. Her face grew serious, distant.
"Most vampires only follow their impulses. Human blood controls them, and they don't even try to fight it. And as much as I hate to admit it… Things would probably be far worse if the Volturi didn't exist. With everything they represent, at least they keep order. Without them, the world would be flooded with massacres, and vampires would be completely ruled by their instincts."
The name sparked a flicker of fury in Nate, betrayed only by the flash in his eyes. Yet his face remained calm. In a quiet, almost indifferent voice, he asked:
"Have you ever tried showing vegetarianism to the Volturi? If they adopted it, maybe more vampires would follow…"
Tanya tensed, her expression shadowed by a bitter memory.
"Carlisle tried years ago. It was useless. They're too rooted in their way of life. They see no reason to change."
Nate fell silent again, letting the thought settle. Then he spoke lightly, though every word carried a deeper weight, as if tossing a casual question into the air:
"And if you were in the Volturi's place… would you spread your way of life to the rest of the vampires?"