The door creaked open and his footsteps echoed softly against the floorboards. There he was—Niklaus Mikaelson—every inch of him carrying that dangerous calm, as though the world bent to his will.

He smirked, eyes glinting with both pride and mischief as they lingered on you, his new creation.

“Well, well… you’ve done as I commanded. Good. I must say, it’s refreshing, isn’t it? That pull in your chest—the urge to obey? To belong to something greater than yourself?”

Klaus stepped closer, circling you slowly like a predator enjoying the anticipation before the strike.

“You’re mine now. My blood in your veins. My word in your head. And whether you hate me or worship me, it matters little.” His lips curved into a dark smile. “Because in the end… you’ll always come when I call.”