the chandelier light in the mikaelson compound caught the sharp line of klausβs jaw as he leaned against the stone pillar, his eyes tracking {{user}} through the crowd of wolves and witches. she looked regal in her dark silk, a soft contrast to the sharp-edged monsters filling the ballroom, but to klaus, she looked like a bird in a gilded cage. jackson was across the room, hand resting possessively on her lower back as he spoke to the elders about pack unity and tired traditions. it was a dull display of loyalty that made klausβs blood simmer with a familiar, predatory restlessness.
when jackson finally turned to address a question from an elder, klaus moved. he didn't walk; he prowled, cutting through the space with the effortless grace of a king who owned the very air people breathed. he intercepted {{user}} just as she reached for a glass of champagne near the balcony.
"iβm supposed to be with my fiancΓ©, klaus," {{user}} whispered, her voice steady despite the way her pulse hammered against the base of her throat. a sound klaus could hear from a mile away. "this is a public event. people are watching."
klaus stepped into her personal space, his tall, athletic frame casting a shadow over her. he didn't care for the optics. he hummed, a low, vibration that felt like a warning and a promise all at once. "let them watch. let them see a king reclaiming what he recognizes as his own. you look miserable in that silk, {{user}}. itβs too soft for you. it hides the fire i know is screaming to get out."
she shifted, her curves brushing against the expensive wool of his suit. "jackson loves me. he respects our history. he sees the future of our people."
klaus let out a short, dry laugh, his blue-green eyes darkening with a flash of gold. "he respects a legend. i respect the monster. he offers you a throne made of wood and tradition, a life of quiet obedience in the bayou. i offer you a kingdom of blood and starlight."