Chapter Text
Late that night, the compound was eerily quiet, its usual hum of activity replaced by a heavy silence. Josie lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, her thoughts racing. Sleep was impossible. Every time she closed her eyes, she felt Penelope’s grip on her arm, the weight of her lips, the sickening condescension in her voice.
Needing air, Josie slipped out of the room. The cold stone halls were dimly lit, the occasional torch flickering weakly. She moved quickly, keeping her footsteps light, until she reached a secluded corridor near the edge of the compound. The faint night breeze carried with it the scent of smoke still lingering from the earlier chaos.
Suddenly, a hand grabbed her arm, pulling her into the shadows. Josie gasped, panic flaring in her chest, but before she could cry out, a familiar voice whispered urgently, “Jo, it’s me.”
Her wide eyes met Hope’s, and relief flooded through her. “Hope?” she whispered, her voice tinged with both shock and panic. “What are you doing here? You can’t be here! Especially after what you did—you burned the trees, Hope! How did you even manage to sneak back in?”
Hope’s expression was grim but unwavering. “I never left,” she admitted. “I needed to see you, to make sure you were okay.” Her voice softened, her eyes searching Josie’s face. “Are you okay?”
The question, so simple yet so loaded, broke something in Josie. Tears spilled from her eyes as she flung her arms around Hope, burying her face in her shoulder. The sobs wracked her body, and Hope’s arms tightened around her protectively.
Hope’s jaw clenched as her anger flared. She could feel the desperation in Josie’s trembling frame, and her mind raced with dark possibilities. “What did they do to you?” she demanded, her voice low but seething. “Tell me, Josie. What did she do?”
Josie shook her head violently, pulling back just enough to look at Hope, her tear-streaked face etched with anguish. “Nothing,” she insisted, her voice trembling. “I swear, Hope. It’s just…” She faltered, wiping at her eyes. “Penelope… She’s the one in charge here, not my dad.”
Hope’s brows furrowed, her anger simmering beneath the surface. “Good,” she said, her tone sharp. “If there’s division within their ranks, that works to our advantage.”
Josie shook her head again, her expression growing more distressed. “No, you don’t understand,” she said, her voice breaking. “If my dad were in charge, he’d ignore me. He wouldn’t care what I’m doing as long as I stayed out of his way.”
She hesitated, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Penelope is different. She’s more… controlling. Of me.”
Hope’s hands clenched into fists at her sides. “What do you mean, controlling?” she asked, her voice low but dangerous.
Josie averted her gaze, her lips pressing into a thin line. She didn’t answer immediately, and Hope’s patience snapped. “Josie,” she said firmly, her voice filled with both urgency and concern. “Tell me.”
Josie hesitated, her hands trembling as she clutched Hope’s. Her throat tightened, and she struggled to find the words. “She’s… she’s been more…” Josie faltered, her voice catching. Her gaze darted away from Hope’s piercing eyes, staring instead at the floor. “She’s been… close to me. Too close.”
Hope’s brows knit together, her jaw tightening. “What do you mean by ‘close’?” she asked, her voice a careful balance of concern and restrained anger.
Josie bit her lip, the weight of her emotions making it hard to speak. Finally, she forced the words out, her voice barely above a whisper. “She’s kissed me. A lot. And… it’s not just that. She touches me, Hope. In ways that make me feel like I’m suffocating.” Her tears began to fall again, her shame evident in every word. “I feel like I’m betraying you every time I let it happen, but I don’t know what else to do.”
Hope’s expression darkened, her fists clenching as her magic sparked faintly at her fingertips. But when she looked at Josie’s tear-streaked face, the anger melted into something softer—something deeply protective. She cupped Josie’s face gently, her voice firm but comforting. “Josie, listen to me. You are not betraying me. You are doing what you have to do to survive. There’s nothing to apologize for. If anyone should be apologizing, it’s me—for putting you in this position in the first place.”
Josie sniffled, her tears slowing slightly as she leaned into Hope’s touch. “But it doesn’t feel right,” she murmured. “It feels like I’m letting her win.”
“She’s not winning,” Hope said firmly, her voice laced with determination. “You’re playing her. You’re stronger than she could ever understand.” But Hope saw how everything was affecting Josie.
Hope’s resolve solidified, her protective instincts overwhelming her. She stepped back, her frustration boiling over. “You know what? Screw this,” she said sharply. “Josie, let’s just leave. The two of us. Right now. We’ll disappear, go somewhere they can’t find us. Let the adults for once handle their own messes! We’ve already done more than enough.”
Josie’s heart skipped a beat at Hope’s words. Part of her wanted to say yes, to take Hope’s hand and run far away from all of it. But she knew better. She straightened, her voice steady despite the tears still glistening in her eyes. “No, Hope.”
Hope stopped, her eyes narrowing in confusion. “No?” she repeated, her voice tinged with disbelief. “Josie, they’re using us! All they have been doing ever since we were born were use us for our abilities. And now Penelope is—”
“I know what Penelope is doing,” Josie interrupted, her voice firmer now. “But running away won’t fix this. Hope, like it or not, this is our fight. We can’t just leave it to someone else.”
Hope stared at her, torn between admiration for Josie’s resolve and frustration with the situation. “Josie, this shouldn’t be our fight. We didn’t start it. Why should we have to end it?”
“Because no one else will,” Josie said, her voice soft but unwavering. “If we don’t fight, if we don’t stop them, they’ll win. And it won’t just hurt us—it’ll hurt everyone we care about. I won’t let that happen, Hope.”
Hope sighed, running a hand through her hair as she tried to rein in her emotions. “How can you be so kind, so selfless?” she muttered, though there was a trace of a smile in her voice.
Josie smiled faintly, reaching out to take Hope’s hand. “I learned from the best.”
Hope exhaled, squeezing Josie’s hand tightly. “Fine,” she said reluctantly. “But I swear, the second this is over, we’re leaving all of this behind. You and me. No more fighting, no more wars. Just… us.”
Josie nodded, her heart swelling at the promise. “Just us,” she whispered.
For a moment, they stood there in the quiet, drawing strength from each other. No matter what came next, they knew they’d face it together.
The tension between them was palpable, the weight of their unspoken emotions filling the narrow space. Hope’s hands were still on Josie’s face, her thumbs brushing gently over her cheeks. Their foreheads almost touched, their breaths mingling in the quiet of the corridor. Slowly, they leaned closer, their lips inches apart, the world around them fading.
But then, a voice rang out in the distance, sharp and intrusive. “Hey! Who’s there?”
Josie stiffened, pulling back slightly as she turned to look over her shoulder. In the faint torchlight, she could make out the figure of a guard, still far enough away to not see Hope clearly but moving closer with purpose. Panic flickered in her chest as she turned back to Hope.
“You need to go,” Josie whispered urgently, her voice trembling.
Hope’s eyes searched hers, defiant and unwilling to let go. She cupped Josie’s face more firmly, her own face filled with reluctant resolve. “Just five more seconds,” Hope murmured, her voice almost a plea.
The words hung in the air between them, heavy with longing. Josie opened her mouth to protest, but the look in Hope’s eyes stopped her. There was something raw and unyielding there—a desperate ache, a quiet rebellion against the world that always seemed intent on tearing them apart.
In those fleeting seconds, Josie’s mind whirred with a thousand thoughts. She felt the press of time, the weight of her duty, the suffocating pull of Penelope’s control. But all of it dimmed in the warmth of Hope’s touch, in the way her hands felt so steady against her skin. Her heart whispered what her voice couldn’t: Please stay. Just stay.
“Hope,” Josie whispered again, her voice edged with desperation as the sound of footsteps grew louder. The guard was getting closer.
Before Josie could say another word, Hope sighed and leaned in so close that their noses brushed. “I love you,” she whispered, so softly Josie wasn’t even sure she’d heard it. and then, in an instant, she was gone, disappearing into the shadows with the speed only a vampire could manage.
Josie was left standing there, her heart racing and her lips still tingling from the kiss that almost was. The guard’s heavy footsteps finally reached her, and she turned to face them, her face carefully composed, hiding the whirlwind of emotions raging inside.
“Miss Saltzman!” the guard said, surprised. “What are you doing out here?”
Josie folded her arms, her expression shifting to one of stern authority. “The real question is what you’re doing,” she snapped, her voice sharp and commanding. “Why didn’t you track the intruders? They clearly used the forest. Look,” she pointed at the faint disturbances in the dirt nearby, “here are their trails. I was out for a walk when I found this. You’re lucky I came across it, or it would’ve gone unnoticed.”
The guard stammered, looking flustered. “I—uh—yes, ma’am. Right away.”
Josie’s gaze was steely, her tone cold. “Next time, do your job properly. This kind of incompetence is unacceptable.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the guard said, bowing slightly before hurrying off with a group of others to investigate the tracks.
Once they were out of sight, Josie let her stern mask slip for just a moment, her shoulders sagging as the ache of Hope’s absence hit her like a wave. She exhaled shakily, steeling herself once more before turning back toward the compound, her heart heavy but her resolve stronger than ever.
The war room was dimly lit, the air heavy with tension as maps and documents cluttered the long wooden table. Around it, Alaric stood with arms crossed, his face etched with lines of worry, while Penelope leaned back in her chair, an expression of practiced indifference masking her sharp gaze. Several high-ranking soldiers flanked them, their armor clinking softly as they shifted uneasily. Josie sat quietly near the corner, her hands folded in her lap, her expression thoughtful but restrained.
“We need to regroup,” Alaric said firmly, pointing to a marked map of their territory. “The loss of the oak trees was a devastating blow. If we move too soon, we’ll be walking into a massacre.”
Penelope rolled her eyes, leaning forward. “We can’t just sit here and wait for them to rebuild their forces. Every day we waste is another day they strengthen their position. We have to act, and we have to act decisively.”
One of the soldiers spoke up. “What about an infiltration? Hit them from the inside?”
“That would take too much time,” another argued. “We don’t have the resources to pull off something that elaborate.”
The room erupted into murmurs and overlapping arguments, voices clashing as frustrations bubbled to the surface. Josie’s gaze moved across the table, her mind racing. She could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on her.
Finally, she cleared her throat, her voice cutting through the noise. “What if we attack now?”
The room fell silent as all eyes turned to her. Alaric frowned deeply, while Penelope arched an eyebrow, intrigued.
“Attack now?” Alaric repeated, disbelief coloring his tone. “That’s suicide, Josie. We’re not prepared.”
“That’s exactly why it’ll work,” Josie replied, her voice gaining strength. “The Mikaelsons will assume we’re too weak to retaliate after losing the oak trees. They’ll expect us to fall back, regroup, and lick our wounds. If we strike now, when they least expect it, we’ll catch them off guard.”
Penelope leaned forward, a slow, calculating smile spreading across her face. “Go on,” she said, her voice low but encouraging.
Josie stood, her confidence growing with every word. “We use their assumptions against them. They think we’re weak, disorganized. So let’s show them the opposite. A swift, coordinated attack will force them into a defensive position. They won’t have time to strategize, and we can exploit that chaos to our advantage.”
Alaric shook his head, pacing. “You’re gambling lives on a hunch. If you’re wrong—”
“But what if she’s right?” Penelope interjected, her tone sharp. “Think about it, Alaric. They’ll be overconfident, unprepared. This is the perfect time to strike.”
“Perfect?!” Alaric snapped, glaring at her. “It’s reckless! We’ve already lost so much. We can’t afford another failure.”
Penelope’s smile faded, replaced by an icy expression. She stood slowly, her presence suddenly commanding the room. “Enough,” she said, her voice low and dangerous.
The tension thickened as Penelope’s gaze swept the room. “This isn’t a debate anymore. I’m in charge now.”
Alaric stiffened, his face contorting with disbelief and anger. “You don’t have the authority—”
“I do now,” Penelope interrupted coldly. She turned to the gathered soldiers. “Listen closely, all of you. The Purifiers follow me now. Only me. If anyone has a problem with that…” Her voice dropped, chilling the room. “There will be consequences.”
A ripple of unease spread among the soldiers, but none dared to speak. Josie’s heart pounded, a sense of dread settling in her chest.
Penelope stepped closer to Alaric, her eyes gleaming with something dark, something terrifying. “The days of indecision and weakness are over,” she said, her voice growing louder. “This world is broken, and I will fix it. No more compromises. No more second-guessing. I will reshape this world into something better, and I will not let anyone stand in my way.”
Alaric’s fists clenched. “You’re mad,” he hissed. “You think these people will follow you after this?”
Penelope smiled—a cruel, humorless smile. “They already are.”
Alaric turned to the soldiers, his voice desperate. “You don’t have to do this. Stand with me. Don’t let her—”
Before he could finish, Penelope raised her hand, and the air in the room grew heavy, suffocating. Dark veins spread across her skin as she whispered an incantation.
Suddenly, screams erupted as blood poured from the eyes, noses, and ears of Alaric’s loyalists. They collapsed to the ground, writhing in agony, their weapons clattering uselessly beside them.
“Stop!” Alaric roared, charging toward her, but she merely flicked her wrist, sending him flying across the room. He hit the wall with a sickening thud, sliding to the floor, coughing blood.
Penelope stalked toward him, her voice cold and venomous. “You’ve always been a thorn in my side, Alaric. Always questioning, always doubting. But not anymore.”
She knelt beside him, her hand hovering over his chest. Dark energy coiled around her fingers as she began to chant again. Alaric’s screams filled the room as his veins darkened, his body convulsing violently. Blood seeped from his eyes and mouth as his face contorted in agony.
“Penelope, stop!” Josie finally found her voice, rushing forward, but Penelope’s gaze snapped to her, freezing her in place with a single look.
“This is necessary, JoJo,” Penelope said softly, her tone eerily calm. “He needs to understand what happens to those who defy me.”
Alaric’s movements slowed, his screams fading into weak, pained gasps. He locked eyes with Josie one last time, his face etched with betrayal and despair, before his body went still.
Penelope stood, brushing herself off as if nothing had happened. “Now,” she said to the soldiers, her voice cutting through the stunned silence. “Does anyone else have objections?”
No one spoke.
Josie felt her knees buckle, her chest tight with horror. She looked at Penelope—at the dark power coursing through her veins, at the cold satisfaction in her eyes—and realized, with a sickening certainty, how dangerous she had become.
This wasn’t leadership. This was tyranny. And Josie was no longer sure if she or Hope could stop it.