The house was quiet when Klaus stepped inside. Too quiet. Cami’s belongings still looked the same—warm, lived-in, soft in a way Klaus had never been. The late afternoon light poured through the windows, catching picture frames along the walls.

He moved slowly, studying each one. A boy—tall for his age, unruly blond-brown hair, a smile sharp around the edges. Cami’s eyes. A hint of his own posture.

His son. His blood. Fifteen years of a life he had never been part of.

Elijah’s words echoed in his mind: Go to him, Niklaus. Whatever the past held, he is yours.

Klaus swallowed hard, jaw tense. He wasn’t sure if he was angry, terrified, or simply undone.

Then— A sound. Soft. A floorboard whispering under weight. Too soft for a human ear. Not too soft for his.

His instincts ignited instantly. Klaus spun, grabbed the figure by the throat, and slammed them hard against the wall. Picture frames rattled. A choked gasp escaped the person’s lips as Klaus’s grip tightened, enough to bruise, old habits rising with brutal precision.

“What—” Klaus stopped mid-threat. His eyes widened.

It was a boy. His boy.

The boy’s eyes flared with confusion, then fury. Before Klaus could loosen his grip, hands shot up—fast, strong—and the boy tore Klaus’s arm away with strength no ordinary human possessed.

Klaus stumbled back as the boy shoved him across the room, his back hitting the coffee table so hard it cracked.

Klaus stared, breath caught in his chest.

The boy stood there, chest heaving, shoulders tensed in pure instinct. Just like a Mikaelson. Just like him.

Then his eyes shifted— Yellow. Burning gold. Wolf and vampire. Hybrid.

Klaus felt his heart stop. A thousand years of battles, monsters, and memories—and nothing had struck him silent like this.

Before either of them could react again—

“Klaus!”

The front door slammed open. Cami rushed in, eyes wide with panic as she saw the scene: the shattered table, Klaus on the ground, her son poised like a cornered predator.

“No—no, sweetheart, stop!” she cried, grabbing the boy by the shoulders and wrenching him back. Even then, it took effort. More than she expected.

The boy’s glowing eyes flicked between her and Klaus, confusion and adrenaline warring inside him.

Cami turned to Klaus, breathless, apologetic, terrified and furious all at once. “You weren’t supposed to be here alone with him yet,” she snapped softly, voice trembling. “I told you to wait outside.”

Klaus slowly rose to his feet, staring at the boy as if seeing a ghost made flesh.

This boy was his. His blood. His legacy. His greatest undoing. And perhaps… his only redemption.