Chapter Text
There was no rhyme or reason to Dahlia’s army as they reached the border of the city. They were operating off one common goal, and that was to take down Klaus Mikaelson. The anger and resentment was rolling off them in a tangible way that Rebekah could practically taste. She’d once been just as consumed by hatred for her brother too, but it was never as horrible as what she was facing now.
Hundreds of men and women were racing towards the line of people lined up along the city right before the edge where she, Stefan, and Freya had buried all the dark objects. Dahlia was at the head of the angry mob, walking with such grace and elegance, there was no denying she was related to the Mikaelson children. Unlike the army she’d amassed, there was no emotion on her face, she was in no way hostile. She was the calm before the storm, because she was the only thing holding her army from attacking. And somehow that was more terrifying.
Rebekah stepped forward, shrugging off the hand Elijah reached out to attempt and pull her back.
“You look like your mother.” Of all the things Rebekah was prepared to hear from her long lost aunt, that certainly wasn’t one of them.
“How insulting.” Rebekah sneered.
Dahlia’s face hardened as she stepped toe to toe with Rebekah, their only separation being the dark object border. “She was the one that made a deal with me. I didn’t make her bargain away every first born of the Mikaelson line.”
“You aren’t getting your hands on my niece.” Rebekah stated.
“You can fight all you want.” Dahlia murmured in her low toned voice. “Build your armies, put an ocean between us, but in the end, I will get what’s mine.”
“Perhaps you’ve been asleep too long.” Elijah stepped forward, standing beside his sister.
“If you insist on this insolence, I will let your beloved city drown in the blood of its people and then burn it to the ground.” Dahlia warned them. “And when it is done, I will take both of the children.”
Rebekah stood inches away from her aunt. She eyed her carefully, standing her ground. “We’ll bury you next to our father so he can torment you for an eternity, because lord knows you’ll both end up in hell.”
With the flick of her wrist, Dahlia unleashed her entire army on them.
Rebekah held her breath, hoping she’d stalled enough time for Kol to enact his asinine plan. The swarm of people seemed to move in slow motion and as the very first one reached for Rebekah’s neck, he was stopped by an invisible barrier. One by one, Dahlia’s army was slammed up against the invisible wall, pounding and clawing at something they weren’t going to be able to break through.
It seemed to increase their tempers, turning them just on the side of vicious to start harming themselves in an attempt to get through. But it was no use, the wall was holding strong and no one was getting passed through.
“This will not protect you forever.” Dahlia said, tapping against the invisible boundary, and then she was gone, vanished from thin air.
“Where did she go?” Rebekah snapped, looking from side to side for her aunt.
“Magical hologram.” Davina answered. “She wouldn’t risk putting herself in this mess.”
“How long will this hold?” Elijah asked Davina.
“I’d say just long enough for us to take out at least half of these people.” Davina answered. Elijah only offered her a nod before turning back to the crowd of their own army gathered behind them.
“I understand that my family has not shown you the greatest kindness.” Elijah began, fixing the lapels of his suit in a tone that was ever so diplomatic. “But we intend to change this. We want New Orleans to be a permanent home for the supernaturals, but that cannot come to fruition if we allow outside threats to take what belongs to us! I ask you today, to fight for your city, for Hope Mikaelson who is a representation of everything we deserve. She was born a witch, a werewolf, and a vampire, a true tribrid of equality who will be our future. She is the peace we strive for and we will come out of this war victorious!”
As Kol planned, the barrier would keep Dahlia’s army out, but their own people had free range to go in and out as they pleased. This was their first defense, to take out as many people outside the boundary before they even had the chance to step foot in the city.
The moment Elijah finished his speech, Rebekah took the initiative and she was the first one across the border, and soon, hundreds were following.
Ever since Hope had returned to New Orleans, Hayley felt like she couldn’t do a single thing right. Whether it was trying to co-parent with Klaus and, despite her personal feelings, Caroline, bonding with her daughter, or trying to get a handle on the wolves. At the beginning, everything was new and there was no way for her to know how to navigate the situation, which was why she played along with the dynamic. If Hope needed a transition period, Hayley could give her that, she would’ve given her anything. Then along came Caroline, and while Hayley loathed to admit it outloud, she was jealous of her. How could she not have been?
Caroline fit in easily with the Mikaelsons, and the comment Katherine made about Hope being her room and board struck her a little too hard knowing without her daughter the family probably never would’ve tolerated her. Hayley had felt that kind of rejection before with her parents death, followed by one too many foster families, and the last one she was forced to leave after triggering her curse. There was a brief time when she was pregnant and after when Hope was with Caroline, that Hayley had a home with the Mikaelsons. They were fighting for the same cause, and she felt like they were fighting for her too. She didn’t want her entire existence to be reduced down to her usefulness. But with the path she was on, it seemed that’s where she was headed. It had crossed her mind that if she wasn’t the leader of the wolves, would Klaus have killed her for Caroline to slot right into place?
Klaus and Hayley had formed a relationship of their own, somewhere between enemies to friends and she’d liked to think he did value her. But the one thing Hayley did know was that Klaus loved Caroline, he had a great and terrible, all consuming love for the blonde baby vampire that anyone could see. She just wasn’t sure what lines Klaus would cross to keep her.
As a natural born predator, Hayley reverted back to her natural instincts now that she was backed into a corner. She had the wolves, she had Jackson, and by God, her daughter would be hers. And so, it was Jealousy, envy, or the need to protect her daughter that drove her to a decision she was sure was going to get her killed.
“Are you sure about this?” Jackson asked quietly, his eyes were yellow as he scanned the empty cemetery the witches inhabited. The war waging beyond the gates was growing louder, and they were both picking up on the sounds of death and destruction, no way to tell which side was winning.
“It’s not safe for her here.” Hayley nodded, thought there was a tremor in her voice and hesitation in her eyes.
“Hayley,” Jackson grabbed her arm and pulled her to a stop right out the Claire family crypt, “I get it, the need to protect her. But this could get us all killed. If we take his daughter, Klaus will kill us and ask questions never . He will erase you from her life just because he can. Just because he's fighting for the right side today doesn’t change the fact that he’s the worst man alive.”
“He won’t.” Hayley said softly. “And she’s my daughter too.” Words that were beginning to feel more foreign the more Hayley said them.
“He might not kill you, but the rest of us?” Jackson pointed out, a hand grip on her arm. “Without a second thought.”
“I missed five years of her life when I could’ve been with her, loved her, raised her.” She sucked in a long breath and closed her eyes. “But I chose to stay and make a home where she could grow up, and you know what, Jack? I’ve regretted that choice every day since Klaus gave her to Rebekah. I’m making a different choice now.”
She smeared Davina’s blood over her hand and gripped the handle of the crypt door to pull it open. It creaked and groaned as a result of being centuries old, but ultimately opened to a narrow entrance that led into a wide area filled with trinkets and old spell books.
Hayley’s eyes darted left and right, and yet, Hope and Ingrid were nowhere in sight.
“Funny where we ended up, huh?” Caroline murmured, as she and Klaus stood at the edge of the abattoir roof. They could the army in the distance, the hundreds of people all with a personal vendetta against Klaus. It was moments like this when Caroline wondered what his life had been like. She’d long since moved past the horrible things he’d done and his albeit questionable morals, but that didn’t stop her curiosity. And if she was being truly honest, she wondered if that’s what she’d become in a thousand years. She didn’t hate the idea of being known as one of the most powerful people in the world.
“What is, my love?” Klaus asked, reaching over to caress the inside of her arm.
“Six years ago I hated you.” Caroline deadpanned.
His soft laugh echoed in the halls. “Don’t kid yourself, Caroline, you didn’t hate me. You liked to pretend, but you never hated me.”
“Well, I didn’t like you.” She responded petulantly.
He gave her a look. “Weren’t you the one that enacted that honesty policy between us?”
“Okay.” Caroline sighed, throwing her hands up exasperatingly. “So maybe I didn’t hate you, maybe I liked you. I will admit that I was attracted to you, but that’s it.”
He pulled her close, placing a kiss to her forehead. “How magnanimous of you.”
“I try.” She shrugged. Sighing contently into the kiss. Really, when did her life take a turn here? “But it’s true we’ve come a long way.”
“I’m sure Elijah will take a long vacation when this is all over and pat himself on the back for his hard earned break after a thousand years of following his bastard brother.” Klaus laughed. “Lessened murder impulses, forgiveness, mercy? Look at all your accomplishments, love.”
“I would like a medal for each one.” Caroline smiled back, amused.
“You’ve grown quite a bit into your vampirism, too.” Klaus commented.
“How so?” Caroline questioned.
“I think you’ve reached that point where you understand that immortality as a predator doesn’t make you a bad person.” Klaus explained softly. “Though you still have your humanity and I’m sure you still believe killing isn’t always the first or easiest answer even if it makes getting rid of problems convenient.” She gave him a dry look. “I make no apologies, love, if they're dead, they can’t come after my daughter.”
“I think it changed when I had her.” Caroline whispered, looking towards the cemetery where her daughter was. “The first time I killed to protect her. You’re right that I don’t necessarily condone killing the innocent. But life means something different when you’ll never die.”
“You won’t come out of this war without blood on your hands.” Klaus murmured.
“It’s not a burden, Klaus.” Caroline said in a hardened tone. She wasn’t naive, war was death, it was destruction, it was becoming a Mikaelson.
And so the pair of them waited at the edge of the abattoir roof until the barrier was finally broken and their city was flooded with enemies.
“Looks like our timer starts now.” Caroline sighed, stepping up to the ledge.
“You remember the plan?” He asked. She shot him an exasperated look, of course she remembered the plan. “Right.” He chuckled. Klaus slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her close until their faces were only a breath apart.
“Are you going to kiss me?” She asked, in the exact same tone she’d once used on him. Are you going to kill me?
He grinned wolfishly. “A long way indeed, my love.” And then his lips were on hers. Klaus kissed the same way he portrayed himself to the world. All consuming, a predator, someone with the knowledge of how to do everything and exactly how to execute it. He nipped his bottom lip, drawing the slightest bit of blood for her. Her transition into an original had already changed and sharpened her senses, but she truly hadn’t realized how much until his blood hit her tongue.
Before, blood had been blood, she’s had an affinity to it of course and preference for B , but now? Something about Klaus’ blood was euphoric, like a drug she was already addicted to. She whimpered when he pulled away, swiping her thumb across his bleeding lip to get another taste.
“When this is all over,” Caroline murmured against his lips, “we should take a long vacation.”
“Anywhere you want.” He promised.
And then, the pair of them stepped off the edge of the roof.
“Ah-” Davina’s shriek was cut off short as Katherine yanked her into one of the many rooms of the Mikaelson compound. “What’re you doing?”
“Wait.” Katherine warned her before walking over to the desk in the room where there was a bowl already set up with sage. She swiped a match, lighting the sage and waited a few moments for the smoke to fill the air before she started speaking again. “I need you to do something for me.”
“Why me?” Davina asked suspiciously. She and Katherine may have been fighting for the same side, but they were far from being friends. She’d heard the stories about the infamous doppelganger and Davina was just on the side of paranoid to not trust her until she had a reason. But that didn’t mean she didn’t have an open mind. Afterall, she was dating a Mikaelson and she knew what kind of man Klaus was. What part he played in making Katherine into the girl she was today.
“Because it has to be a secret.” Katherine said, pouring herself a glass of bourbon and tossed it back without hesitation. Davina could’ve used a drink right about then too.
“What’s going on?” She asked.
“Well, since I’ve been playing spy for the last couple of weeks on Dahlia, I’ve had a contact of mine watching the rest of you in the city.” Katherine explained. Davina’s mouth dropped open at her blatant disregard for their privacy. “I learned a long time ago that if someone has as much reason for resentment as Hayley does, she has just as much motive to do something desperate. So when I got back into the city, I started following her.”
Katherine didn’t even have to say the words for Davina to understand what she was saying. “She betrayed us.”
“I’m sure she doesn’t see it that way.” Katherine deadpanned.
“What has she done?” Davina asked.
“She’s been having secret rendezvous’ with Dahlia for the past couple of weeks.” Katherine answered. “Mostly about Hope. She promised Hayley she could stay around and raise Hope if she would relinquish control and let Dahlia bind and train her. I think Hayley took one look at her situation and thought it was her best shot at getting the life she wanted with her daughter.”
“But, why would Dahlia even agree to this?” Davina was confused.
“Hayley asked the same thing at one of their meetings. Dahlia said the first time around with Freya, she’d waited too long to take her. By that point Freya already had attachments, memories. She wanted to take Hope as a baby, but you know how that turned out. So this was the compromise.” Katherine said. “Though, she still had some level of common sense because it doesn’t seem like she’d ratted out the entire operation.”
“What’s she planning?” Davina asked.
“She told Dahlia where we’re hiding the girls. Hayley’s going to follow you and Kol to find out where the crypt is. Once there’s too much going on and everyone is occupied, she was going to go back and take her.”
“Okay, so, we move them before she gets the chance too.” Davina said, the plan already mapping out in her mind. “Where though?”
“Well, you grew up here? Where do you think is safe enough to leave them?” Katherine retorted.
Davina paced back and forth for a minute, mulling over their limited options. “We could leave them at St. Anne’s church in my old bedroom. It’s not as good as the crypt, but I had it concealed in layers of magic back after Marcel saved me from the harvest.”
“Okay, after you split from Kol, wait by the cemetery until you get my call. I’ll wait by the bayou to make sure Hayley’s out of the way and I can let you know if she’s on her way back before you can get the girls.”
“Are you sure we shouldn’t tell the girls’ parents?” Davina winced, not liking the idea of going against them.
“A word to the wise, little witch, when you’re dealing with situations as precarious as ours, the best course of action is to not let anyone know your moves. The more people we tell, the more likely someone we don’t want to know will find out.” Katherine warned her. “We’re in a war, logic and necessity always, because that’s what’s going to get you out alive in the end.”
Davina sighed, rubbing her face tiredly, knowing there was a sound truth to Katherine’s words. “You’re right, I know.” She offered her a wry smile. “See you on the other side, Katherine.”
The two girls flitted out of the room, no one the wiser to the secret plans they’d concocted. Among all the commotion it was easy for the pair of them to slip back into the fray as if they’d never been gone.
Kol had seen his fair share of blood and death, he probably single handedly kept the population in control when he managed to stay undaggered. Before Davina, he had an uncontrollable bloodlust that he used as a crutch for the magic that he lost. He would slaughter towns and watch it all burn. Crowded cities were his playground to create fake serial killers. He had a but of a fascination with torture as well. But the hard truth? It all simply came down to the fact that he liked to kill people, sociopathic as it was, after all that was a vampire's natural instinct. There was a certain kind of rush that came with knowing he was going to live forever and everyone else was simply a blip on his radar, sans his family and Davina of course. But he would be interesting and powerful and get to experience the world for an eternity, and everyone else only got a handful of fragile years. Bottom line was, human life essentially meant nothing to him.
Kol thought he would feel that way forever and nothing would change that. Until he saw a boy standing in front of him, not an ounce of emotion on his face. He stood unmoving as the city streets were drenched in blood and people were fighting all around him. Dahlia had stayed true to her threats and managed to counteract Kol’s magic within an hour, but it didn’t matter, it served its purpose. Even as there were bodies falling by the second, Kol knew it could’ve been much, much worse.
That was far from his main focus though, because the boy standing in front of him couldn’t have been any older than Hope or Ingrid, and there was something about him that was so… haunting. On instinct, Kol gathered him in his arms and used his speed to a small alleyway away from the fighting and gently set him down on an uneven cobblestone bench. There weren’t supposed to be any humans or children left. So how had they missed this boy?
“Are you alright?” Kol asked softly, glancing around to make sure people weren’t paying attention to them. “What’s your name?”
“Fane.” The little boy stuttered out over a shaky breath. He didn’t seem like he knew what he was saying, simply acting on autopilot. “My name is Fane.”
“Hello, Fane, I’m Kol.” He introduced himself. Kol paused, studying him for injuries, but his physical being seemed fine. Although, his clothes were rumpled and slightly dirty. He clearly hadn’t had a bath in a few days if the dirt smudges were any indication. “What were you doing out in the street? Were you alone?”
Fane didn’t answer. Instead, he looked up at Kol, blinking eerily. “I think my mother is dead.”
Kol flinched at his tone. So blank, empty. There was no emotion, but strangely enough, no remorse either. “Did you see what happened to her? Did she go somewhere?”
“She left a week ago.” Fane murmured, eyes blank.
“Fane, what’s your mother’s name?” Kol asked.
“Celene Deveraux.”
Celene Deveraux, the woman he and Davina framed and murdered to make her regent.
Davina sucked in a sharp breath and watched Kol disappear from her line of sight as she waited for Katherine’s all clear text. It was only a few minutes before her phone went off and Davina slipped back into the cemetery sticking close to the shadows.
After all the time she’d spent in the crypt with Kol, it was second nature to her and she soon found herself opening the door once more.
“Girls?” She called out softly, padding her way back inside.
“Aunt Davina?” Ingrid tilted her head in confusion. “What happened?”
“Is everyone okay?” Hope asked, a tinge of panic in her voice.
“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay,” Davina bent down and ran her hand through their hair to sooth them, “everything’s okay. There’s just been a slight change in plans and we have to move you.”
“Where?” Ingrid asked curiously, hopping off the couch and bringing Hope with her. They each took hold of one of Davina’s hands. She tucked them close, as if they could blend into the lines of her body. She stuck close to the shadows once again, pausing every time she heard the inkling of a voice or a potential threat.
“I’m taking you to my old room at St Anne’s.” Davina answered her when they were out of the cemetery and on the empty street. It seemed everyone was still being briefed before being released into the city.
She hurriedly took them through back alleyways and dark spaces until the familiar sight of the church was in front of her. With a quick glance to make sure no one was following them, Davina crossed the street and rushed them into the church doors. They closed with a heavy thud behind them, but Davina didn’t stop until she had the girls up the stairs and at the door of her old bedroom.
“You used to live here?” Hope asked, looking around at Davina’s old canvas, paints, and the record player she’d left behind. Everything was covered in a white sheet and a thin layer of dust except for the sparkling chandelier hanging on the ceiling.
“For a while.” Davina smiled fondly at the old room.
“What were you running from?” Hope asked.
“Death.” Ingrid answered for her. Although the word was daunting, her tone was so casual, as if nothing was remiss about the way she spoke.
“I think that’s a story for a long time in the future.” Davina grimaced. She picked them up and settled them on the bed, tucking them in with the blanket. It wasn’t entirely necessary, but there was something so sad about seeing them in such a position, one that she had once been in. “Same rules apply, okay? Don’t leave unless you have to. You have the dampeners and your crests in case of trouble. Wait here until one of us comes to get you.”
“Why did you move us?” Hope prodded softly, turning her big blue eyes on Davina. “Everytime we used to move, Mommy said it was because it wasn’t safe anymore. Please, tell us?”
She bit her lip, already knowing she was gonna cave. She sighed heavily and sat down on the edge of the bed, tucking a strand of hair back on both girls. “Someone told Dahlia where you were going to be. So, your Auntie Katherine and I decided it was best if we moved you.”
“Does Mummy or Stefan know where we are?” Ingrid asked.
Davina shook her head. “It was safer if only Katherine and I knew. We didn’t want someone to accidentally find out and put you in danger again.” Davina paused, contemplating whether she should warn them not to go with Hayley. On one hand, she didn’t want to be in the business of turning Hope against her mother, but on the other hand, she didn’t want the girls to end up with Dahlia if Hayley somehow finds them. She swallowed thickly, deciding the consequences weren’t worth the cost of losing them. “Girls,” she started softly, gathering them into her arms, remembering what it was like when her own mother turned her back on her during the harvest, “if Hayley finds you, don’t go with her, okay? You have to run.”
“It was her, wasn’t it?” Ingrid asked.
Davina didn’t answer her, because all three of them already knew the answer. Instead she hugged them close and placed a kiss on their heads. “Remember what I said and stay safe. I’ll see you both soon.”
“Aunt Davina?” Hope’s little voice called her back.
“Hmm?” Davina answered, halfway out the door but she turned back to meet their eyes.
“What if no one comes to get us?” Ingrid asked for both of them.
Davina’s heart clenched and there was a sinking feeling at the bottom of her stomach. She walked back and gingerly sat down on the edge of the bed. “Trust your parents, my sweet girls, and it’ll all be over soon.”
I've been writing out little ideas of the sequel to help me finish this story, so here's a little sneak peak. I will say this is subject to change and take it with a grain of salt, but let me know what you think. If you like it, don't like it, changes you think should be made? I've also been toying with the idea of bringing back Henrik in the future and have him go to the Forbes Academy with Hope and Ingrid.
-- SEQUEL SNEAK PEAK--
“The place looks stunning.” Hope’s attention was diverted to the entrance where a very familiar boy was standing. But she didn’t need to turn to know who it was. Ruel had always had a distinct voice, perfect, proper, and slightly accented because English wasn’t his first language. He looked tired, but then again, being Ruel was a perpetually exhausting feat with all the responsibilities and secrets that he kept sheltered close to his heart.
“Of course it does, I’ve been bleeding seating charts and color schemes for weeks.” Hope replied, no hesitation.
He chuckled, pushing off the wall. “Ah the Mikaelson arrogance, princess, it’ll eat you alive.”
Everyone called her princess, her family, her friends, the media, but there was something so delectable about the way the syllables rolled off his tongue.
“Says you.” Hope scoffed, tucking her hair behind her ear. “We all know who you got your personality from.”
“Hazard of being my father’s son.” Ruel responded, stalking closer. He had been tall since they were kids, but over the summer it seemed he’d hit a staggering growth spurt putting him at 6 '3, an entire foot over her. His features had sharpened as well, the clean lines of his face more defined which matched his quiet but aloof personality. It was undeniable that Ruel was gorgeous, conventionally handsome in every sense of the word. But it was his eyes that struck people the most. He was born with heterochromia, so his left eye was a deep dark almost black shade which completely blended with his pupil and his right eye had once been a vibrant blue but after undergoing one of his fathers rare failed experimentations, it had turned completely white. No iris, no pupil. The result? Two voids that ended being the staple feature making him one of the most sought after models in the industry since he was fourteen years old.
Hope swallowed hard. Ruel had a very complicated relationship with his father, and there were days his father was the man he idolized and there were days Hope was sure he’d take a knife to his father’s throat in his sleep. By the rough tone, it was the latter circumstance.
“Shouldn’t you be at school?” Hope changed the subject. “My father doesn’t like you wandering the compound.”
“Your father has a strong dislike for me in general, princess. Doesn’t dictate what I can and can’t do.” Ruel replied, as if he wasn’t talking about Klaus Mikaelson, a man who would have no qualms about ripping his head from body. “In fact I like to push his boundaries, it brings a certain thrill to my life.”
“Save your apathy for someone who cares.” Hope pursed her lips.
“The way I see it, I’m in the most secure position in the world.” Ruel leaned back against one of the tables, and watching the fabric crinkle where he gripped the edge made her teeth clench with annoyance. “Because his daughter would never let me die.”
Hope’s eyes snapped up. That was the thing about Hope and Ruel, they tended to skirt a fine line between strangers, friends, and something a little too intimate to be called friendship. The bottom line was, they were close as anyone else in their tight knit group of seven.
Ingrid had a theory about their way of life that she proclaimed was so matter of fact, it was what bound them together. The seven of them grew up together, in the same boarding school under the same circumstance, pressure, and judgment. Ingrid says it’s because they breathe the same air and have the same thoughts.
They’re all I have in this world and they’re all I’ll have in the next. She’d been fourteen when promised those words, and since then it’s what they lived by. It was their always and forever.
“That’s a lot of faith you have in my affection for you.” Hope murmured.
“Despite what some people liked to think, I know you’re always the most powerful person in the room.” Ruel stated casually. “And I also know that you’d be devastated if I was erased from your life. Ergo, I’m untouchable.”
“And I’m the arrogant one.” Hope deadpanned, finally getting fed up with the way he was wrinkling her table cloth and shoving him off the edge. The sight itself was funny as she had a significantly smaller frame, almost like a small dog antagonizing a much larger one. But as he’d stated, she was the tribrid and all it took was a light shove with no effort on her part to have him stumble off.
“And I’m not wrong.” He laughed off her annoyance.
“Please tell me this isn’t the official seating chart!” Ingrid exclaimed, breaking up their conversation. She was walking through the entrance with black sunglasses the size of her face and Azrael’s arm thrown over her shoulders. They were both stopped where Hope had the physical copy of the seating chart displayed for the guests.
“What’s wrong with my seating chart?” Hope asked icily, turning a glare on her favorite cousin. Her white hair was drawn up into a messy bun, and her clothes looked rumpled.
“Our table is way too close to the Hartford socialites, I simply cannot be in their presence for too long. They’re so terribly condescending towards me and their fake saccharine smiles make my teeth ache.” Ingrid cried dramatically, reaching a hand out to move her name.
Hope was there before anyone could blink, a strong grasp around her wrist. “I love you, but I will cut off your hand if you touch my chart, Ing.”
“Relax, cousin,” Ingrid said, placing a kiss to her cheek, “I would never want to put you through such trauma of me losing a limb.”
“Right,” Hope said dryly, “because your inconvenience would be such a tragedy to me.”
“Precisely, my dear princess.” Ingrid said, throwing her a gracious smile.
“Hi, Azrael.” Hope ignored her, turning her head towards the 6’ 4 boy Ingrid was obsessed with. His hair was nearly as white as hers at the tips but his roots were black and his eyes were the warmest shade of green. He was usually stoic and quiet, letting his wide frame and intimidating presence speak for itself.
“Hi, Hope.” He smiled at Ingrid’s antics, completely just as enamored with her, before leaning over to greet Hope with a kiss to both cheeks.
“You’re the most self-centered, egotistical, hypocritical, mindfucker-” Corinna voice shook the room, the sound of her kitten heels clicking against the concrete floor as she stormed out of the kitchen. Her thick dark curls flowing behind her and there was a scowl on her graceful fairy-like features.
“Careful there, Corinna, you’ll run out of adjectives and we both know your backwater town vocabulary isn’t refined enough to come up with more insults.” Fane’s lazy tone echoed back as he followed behind her. There was a nonchalant attitude about him, but his tongue was as sharp as his father’s.
“It was one request. One!” She hissed, picking up a vase and throwing it at him, nearly missing his head by a few inches. He didn’t even flinch. Contrary to the way Corinna acted towards Fane, she was usually very composed.
“I understand the concept of a request, but you clearly don’t.” He responded. “When you ask a question, there’s an answer that follows. You just don’t like the one I gave you.”
“Because it’s hypocritical!” She screamed, pulling off her heels this time and flinging them at his chest. He caught them mid air before it even reached him.
“Must you always throw things?” Fane dropped her shoes. “Then again I’d expect such manners from someone who lived in such poverty.” One of his favorite insults always drew back towards her adoption.
Corinna’s eyes blazed with a renewed anger, and this time, instead of manually throwing something again, they could all feel the tingle of magic in the air as knives came flying out of the kitchen heading right towards Fane’s back.
Hope sighed, waving her hand and they all fell to the ground with a thud. Fane once again hadn’t even flinched, instead he had an exasperated expression on his face as Corinna stood three feet in front of him with her eyes narrowed in anger, arms crossed over her chest.
“Did I miss the fight already?” Castor, their last addition of the group, was standing between Ingrid and Azrael with an arm over each, fresh off the plane with his suitcase. Every group has a friend who shines brighter than the sun, initiates all the crazy ideas, and funds the most ridiculous creations. Among their little group of seven, that was Castor Clark. He was the only heir to a multi-billion dollar fortune built on diamonds and jewels. He was the cliche and he knew it, neglected by his parents, sent off to boarding school, irresponsible and impulsive. It would’ve bothered him if he actually cared.
“Don’t worry, it’s not like you won’t get a repeat soon enough.” Ruel interjected.
Corinna sucked in a sharp breath, fixing her posture and softened her expression. “I never ask you for anything, Fane. Why can’t you do this for me?”
“And why would I do anything for you?” He sneered, getting so close that their noses were nearly touching. “Don’t you remember the very pleasant thing you did for me, the one thing that put us in the position in the first place?”
Fane always hit low when it came to Corinna. He took any shot possible to hurt her, whether it was where she came from, their shared family feud, her blatant issues with her parents. But there was always a certain level of boredom to the way he fought with her. She tended to resort to violence, hence the throwing of objects. One of her particular favorites was scratching up his car or trashing his office. Their fights were common among their albeit violent household, and the boundaries crossed were to be expected. But every rule had an exception and there was only one argument in particular Fane would pull out if Corinna rattled his teeth enough.
It seemed whatever Corinna warranted enough for Fane to throw it back in her face.
Corinna didn’t dignify him with an answer, and they knew she was really mad this time. Instead she turned on her heels and stalked up the stairs towards her bedroom.
“Why do you have to be such a degenerate asshole to her? Without her we’d be-” Ingrid was fiercely protective of Corinna. From the moment Caroline and Stefan had brought her to the compound, Ingrid had fawned over having another cousin. She made sure that Corinna had the same privileges and affection her and Hope had growing up, and she wouldn’t tolerate any kind of disrespect.
Fane’s eyes hardened as he turned on her. “Don’t,” he snapped, and he stood unmoving for a moment until he winced and a hand flew to his chest, “stay the fuck out of our business, Ing.” He snapped at her with a pointed look and with that he followed after Corinna, slamming his bedroom door that was placed right beside hers.
“We should film them and sell the videos to the media.” Castor laughed. “We’d make a fortune off their drama.”
“That’s not even funny, Cas.” Hope exasperatedly pinched the bridge of her nose. The absolute last thing they needed was more of their lives broadcasted to the public.
Ruel leaned over her shoulder, tucking a blond strand of her behind her ear, his breath caressing the shell of her ear. “Aren’t you glad to have us all home?”
Hope turned her head, her cheek barely brushing his. “At the rate we’re going? We’ll see who makes it out alive by the end of the year.”
“My money’s definitely on me.”
“Don’t overestimate your importance.” She murmured.
“I’m your favorite, princess,” he planted a sweet kiss on her cheek, “we all know it.”