Chapter 22
The Mikaelson compound was thick with the weight of anticipation. The atmosphere hummed with an intensity that was impossible to ignore. The family had gathered in the main room, their minds focused on the task ahead, but there was a heavy presence lingering in the air; one that wasn’t quite like the others.
Hope had been so excited to see her father that her smile could light up an entire room. It had been too long since she had seen him, and despite the uncertainty of the situation, the sight of Klaus standing in the doorway was enough to make her heart swell. She didn’t hesitate. She ran toward him, her arms outstretched as she called his name.
“Dad!” Hope’s voice rang out, her joy palpable. Klaus, for a brief moment, softened, his stoic expression melting into something that could almost be described as affection. He knelt down as Hope collided with him, her arms wrapping around his neck in a tight hug.
Klaus couldn’t help but smile, though the warmth didn’t quite reach his eyes. He returned her hug, though his arms were careful, as if he feared holding her too tightly would break something precious. “It’s good to see you, darling,” he said, his voice low, laced with a mix of love and something darker, something that reminded everyone in the room of who he was.
Hope pulled back slightly to look at him, her bright eyes filled with both curiosity and adoration. “Where have you been, Dad? I’ve missed you.”
Before Klaus could answer, a sharp voice interrupted, cutting through the moment.
“What the hell, Klaus?” Hayley’s voice was sharp, angry, but there was a note of hurt that threaded through her words. She stood at the edge of the room, arms crossed tightly over her chest, her gaze burning with frustration.
Klaus straightened up, letting go of Hope gently before standing to face Hayley. She was furious, her eyes flashing with a depth of emotion that could no longer be ignored.
“You’ve been completely off the grid! No calls, no messages, nothing! Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been? I’ve been stuck here, alone, with no word from you!” Hayley’s words came fast, almost frantic with the urgency of the situation. It wasn’t just that he hadn’t reached out, it was the fact that he had disappeared without a trace. She wasn’t sure whether to be more angry or more concerned.
Klaus remained calm, his usual smirk softening into something less confident, almost regretful. “I’m sorry, Hayley,” he said, his tone lower than usual, almost apologetic. “I’ve been... dealing with some things. I should have contacted you, but I was preoccupied with ensuring Hope’s safety.” His eyes flickered toward his daughter, his tone hardening ever so slightly as he glanced back at Hayley. “That’s all that matters. The rest, it can wait.”
Hayley’s eyes narrowed, disbelief flashing across her face. “You’re telling me you couldn’t send a text or make a damn call? You couldn’t even give a reason for vanishing? After everything we’ve been through?” Her voice cracked slightly at the end, as if she was on the verge of something much deeper than just anger.
“I know I’ve made mistakes, Hayley,” Klaus said, his voice steady but filled with regret. “But right now, I need to make sure she’s safe. That’s the priority. Nothing else matters.”
Before Hayley could respond, a curt voice cut through the tension in the room.
“Kol’s here too, Klaus,” Davina said coldly, her arms folded in front of her. “We can’t have both of you under this roof. You need to choose.”
Klaus’ eyes flickered briefly to Davina, a flash of irritation crossing his features before he took a long, slow breath. The truth was, he understood where she was coming from. The compound was large, but it wasn’t big enough for the tension that would arise from having two brothers who despised each other in such close quarters. He knew that Kol’s presence in the compound had been a point of contention for some time, especially since he and Elijah’s strained relationship was far from healed. But Klaus didn’t have time for family politics.
“I’m not here to stay,” Klaus replied with a wave of his hand, trying to defuse the situation. “I’m just ensuring Hope’s safety. Once that’s done, I’ll leave. You won’t have to worry about me, Davina. Or Kol.”
It wasn’t a promise he could fully keep, but it was one that would buy him a moment’s peace. It seemed to work. Davina gave a slight nod, though her expression remained skeptical.
“Fine,” she said, before turning her attention to the rest of the room. “But don’t think I’ve forgotten the past. We’re doing this together, not for you.”
Klaus didn’t respond. Instead, he turned his gaze back to Hope, whose bright eyes were still fixed on him. The anger in the room seemed to fade into the background as he knelt once more, bringing her back into his arms.
The tension had not subsided, but for now, it would have to wait.
As the night wore on, the Mikaelsons, along with the rest of their unlikely allies, gathered in the main room to put their plan into motion. There was no time to waste. They had spent enough hours in silence, each of them stewing in their thoughts, each of them carrying their own weight, their own fears.
Freya, always the strategist, took charge as she began outlining the final details of the plan. The illusion of Hope had already been prepared; Davina and Vincent had worked tirelessly to craft the spell that would create the dirt replica of the girl standing by Santana. The moment Greta stepped into the radius of Freya’s spell, the trap would be sprung.
Brittany stood beside Santana, her fingers nervously tracing the hilt of the dagger that would end it all. She had agreed to be the one to deliver the fatal blow, though her stomach twisted with anxiety and uncertainty. It felt surreal, the weight of the blade in her hand, knowing it would be used to end a life. But it had to be done. There was no other choice.
“I’m ready,” she whispered, her voice tight.
Santana gave her a tight, determined smile. “I know you are.”
The rest of the family was gathered around them, standing in tense silence as Freya activated the spell. The compound had been cleared of any distractions. Kol stood at the edge of the room, his eyes narrowed with distrust as he watched the proceedings. Marcel and Elijah were close by, preparing for any possible contingencies. Hayley, though angry, had remained close to Hope, her protective instinct overriding her frustration.
Everything was in place. The illusion was set. The magic hung heavy in the air, a pulse of energy that was felt by everyone in the room. They could feel it. This was it. There was no turning back now.
Freya gave a nod, signaling that the illusion was ready. Santana and Brittany stood side by side, the dirt formation of Hope glowing softly in the dim light. The atmosphere crackled with anticipation.
The door opened, and Greta entered, her footsteps echoing in the hall. She walked confidently, her eyes scanning the room as she stepped into the center. Her gaze locked onto Santana, suspicion flickering in her dark eyes.
“You think you’ve won, don’t you?” Greta sneered, her voice full of venom. “This little charade won’t work.”
But she was already too close. The moment her foot stepped into the radius of Freya’s magic, the world around her shifted. The air seemed to thicken, and for a brief second, Greta faltered, her eyes wide with realization.
Santana took a deep breath, stepping forward to close the distance between herself and the woman who had haunted them for far too long. The others stood back, their eyes locked on the scene unfolding before them.
With a steady hand, Brittany stepped forward, the dagger raised high. The weight of the decision was crushing, but she had no hesitation now. This had to be done. For Hope. For everyone they loved.
With one swift motion, she drove the dagger deep into Greta’s stomach, the blade slicing through her flesh with a sickening sound.
Greta gasped, her eyes widening in shock as the life drained from her, her body collapsing in an almost graceful heap.
The room was silent for a long moment, the only sound the heavy breathing of the group. It was done. Greta was dead.
The family stood in stunned silence, the weight of what had just transpired settling over them like a heavy blanket. But there was no time for reflection. They had won, but the cost of that victory was still unknown.
Brittany stood over Greta’s lifeless body, the dagger still in her hand. Her heart pounded in her chest as she looked up at Santana, her face a mixture of relief and grief.
“It’s over,” Brittany whispered.
Santana nodded, her expression hard. “For now. But we still have a long way to go.”
And as they stood there, surrounded by the echoes of their victory, they all knew that the fight was far from finished.