Chapter 14
The following days were filled with intensity, as Kol took it upon himself to accelerate the training for both Brittany and Santana. His eyes gleamed with determination, though his methods were anything but gentle. He was the only vampire among them with knowledge of magic, and he wasn't going to waste time. Brittany and Santana had to learn quickly if they were going to survive whatever came next.
Santana was the first to feel the brunt of Kol’s relentless approach. She had already been pushed hard during her sparring sessions with Marcel, but Kol wasn't satisfied. He pushed them both beyond their limits, constantly demanding more. The training sessions were grueling, one exhausting round after another, until Santana's body refused to cooperate. She was on the edge, barely able to stand as Marcel, with his ever-watchful eyes, continued to attack.
"You can do better than that," Kol barked, his voice cold, as Santana stumbled back to her feet, her body trembling.
Marcel, though still in fighting form, glanced at Kol with a hint of concern. He watched Santana’s movements, her exhaustion mounting.
"Kol, she's done," Marcel said, his tone firm. "She can’t keep going. Pushing her any further might break her spirit."
Kol’s eyes narrowed, frustration lining his face. "No, she's not done. She's just giving up."
"She’s exhausted," Marcel insisted, stepping in front of Santana to shield her from Kol's piercing gaze. "If you keep pushing her, she'll snap."
Santana, breath ragged and face pale, finally dropped to one knee, unable to hold herself up any longer. She had given everything, and it still wasn't enough. She felt the weight of Kol’s expectations like a crushing burden.
Kol growled under his breath but took a step back, his eyes filled with disdain. "Fine, take a break. But know this, Santana: you can’t afford to be weak. Not in this world."
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Santana to catch her breath as Marcel knelt down beside her, concern etched on his face.
“You did good,” Marcel said quietly, offering her a hand.
Santana accepted it, but her mind was spinning. She didn’t know if she could handle much more of this. She had to push herself harder, had to, or they wouldn’t survive. But was it even worth it if it broke her in the process?
Meanwhile, Brittany wasn’t faring any better. Kol had turned his focus on her, too. With Freya, Davina, and Vincent trying to guide her through spells, Kol pushed her beyond the edge of her concentration. She was already struggling, but Kol wouldn't stop.
Freya was the first to protest. “Kol, this isn’t how you teach magic,” she said, her voice sharp. “Brittany isn’t ready for this. You can’t just force her.”
Kol’s eyes glinted with impatience. “She has to be ready. This is the world we live in now. We can’t afford to coddle her.”
Davina stepped forward, her voice firm, though there was concern in her eyes. “You’re pushing her too hard. She’s not going to learn if she’s overwhelmed. You’re making it worse.”
Brittany, already on the verge of losing control, was doing everything she could to keep herself together. But with every spell, every attempt to summon power, it felt like she was sinking deeper. The words slipped through her mind in a tangled mess, the gestures uncoordinated. She was on the edge of breaking.
“You’re not going to force me to give up, are you?” Kol taunted, a cruel edge to his voice. “Not like Santana.”
Brittany’s hands began to shake as she tried to focus. “I can’t—” she gasped, her magic slipping out of control. A burst of energy erupted from her hands, sending an uncontrollable wave of power through the room. The spell she had been trying to conjure spiraled into chaos, throwing objects across the room, the magic twisting like a wild storm.
Freya rushed forward, her hands reaching out as she desperately tried to steady Brittany’s magic. “No, stop!” she cried, but Brittany was too far gone. Her breath was coming in frantic gasps, her heart racing as she watched her magic spiral out of control.
In that moment, Hayley, who had been standing at the door, moved quickly. She stepped into the room, placing herself in front of Brittany. Her voice was calm, soothing, a stark contrast to the chaos around them. “Brittany, listen to me. You’re okay. You can control this. Breathe, just breathe.”
Brittany’s chest heaved as she struggled to focus on Hayley’s voice, the calm presence grounding her. Slowly, the storm inside her began to settle, the magic receding as she regained control.
“Good,” Hayley said softly, her hands steady on Brittany’s arms. “You’re safe.”
But as Brittany’s breath began to steady, Davina turned on Kol. “What the hell was that?” she snapped. “You pushed her too hard. You nearly killed her with your impatience.”
Kol only shrugged, as if his actions were justified. “Hope would have handled it,” he said flatly. “She’s younger than them, and she’s been through worse.”
“You’re comparing them to Hope?” Davina’s voice rose, her frustration clear. “Hope is the tribrid, a Mikaelson. She was born into this life, raised in it. These two are not Mikaelsons. You can’t treat them like you do the rest of your family.”
Kol stiffened, his eyes flashing in annoyance. “I’m just trying to protect the family. I’m doing what none of you have the stomach to do.”
“That’s because we know our limits, Kol,” Freya said sharply. “We’re not pushing anyone to the breaking point just to make them stronger. You want them to survive, but this will break them. You’re breaking them.”
Kol’s gaze hardened, but before he could argue, Freya slapped him across the face with a force that left the room silent. “You’ve forgotten the sacrifices we’ve all made, haven’t you?” she said, her voice trembling with the weight of her emotions. “Vincent left his love behind to help us, to fight for us. Hayley lost Jackson. I’ve had to leave Keelin behind, terrified every day that the Scorned would come for her. We’ve all sacrificed. And you want to throw these two into the fire like they’re nothing?”
Vincent stepped forward, his voice quiet but fierce. “We’ve all suffered. You think you’re the only one who’s given something up? You’re not. We’re all in this together, Kol. But if you keep pushing them, you’ll lose them.”
Kol stood still, his jaw clenched, but he said nothing.
Marcel, who had been quietly watching, looked at Kol with a mix of weariness and disappointment. “You’re pushing them too far. You can’t expect them to be like us. They’re not Mikaelsons. They’re people.”
“Then what do you suggest we do?” Kol shot back, his voice rising. “Sit back and wait for the next attack? Hope that we’ll all be safe without preparing them?”
Freya’s voice cut through the tension. “Enough,” she snapped. “Training’s over for today. Go back to your rooms, all of you. Let them rest. They need it.”
As the others left, Santana, having overheard the conversation from the hallway, leaned against the doorframe, her mind reeling. She had heard enough. Kol’s harsh methods, the sacrifices everyone had made; she could feel the weight of it all pressing on her chest.
She wasn’t sure what to think anymore. But one thing was clear, there was a line between survival and destruction. And Kol was getting dangerously close to crossing it.
She walked over to Brittany, who was still sitting on the floor, breathing slowly. Santana knelt beside her, her hand gently touching Brittany’s shoulder.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she said softly, her voice steady. “We’ll figure this out. Together.”
Brittany nodded, her exhaustion evident, but there was a glimmer of hope in her eyes. Maybe they could survive this after all, if they stuck together.