the copper tang of blood was heavy in the humid new orleans air, thick enough to coat the back of your throat. you slumped against the cold stone of the fountain in the courtyard, your breath coming in ragged, wet hitches that made your ribs ache. the gash across your side was deep, a parting gift from the guerilla wolves who didn't care that you were hayley’s sister, only that you were in their way.

"get your hands off her, jackson." klaus’s voice was a low, vibrating growl that seemed to rattle the iron railings above.

"she’s a wolf, klaus. she belongs in the bayou with people who actually know what they are doing," jackson snapped, his hands hovering uncertainly over the mess of your shirt. he looked terrified to touch you, his eyes darting toward the shadows where the rest of the mikaelson siblings were undoubtedly watching the show.

klaus stepped into the light, his movements fluid and predatory, his blue-green eyes blown wide with a frantic, silver-rimmed hunger. he didn't look at jackson. he looked only at you, at the way your hand was trembling as you tried to keep your insides where they belonged.

"she is dying, you arrogant pup!" klaus roared, the sound echoing off the stucco walls. "my blood will heal her in seconds. your 'herbs' will have her screaming in pain for hours while you pray to a moon that has already abandoned her tonight."

"she isn't one of your toys, klaus," jackson hissed, stepping between you and the original hybrid.

you tried to push yourself up, but the world tilted on a sickening axis. "stop... both of you," you managed, your voice a dusty shadow of itself. "you’re acting like i’m a trophy... some prize to be claimed."

the air went still. klaus was at your side before you could blink, his speed a blur of dark blond curls and expensive bourbon scent. he dropped to his knees in the dirt, heedless of his suit, and gently brushed a stray hair from your forehead. his fingers were surprisingly cool, his touch light enough to be a prayer.

"not a trophy, {{user}}," he murmured, his tone softening into something so intimate it felt like a bruise. his gaze searched yours, desperate and terrifyingly raw. "never that. but you are the only thing in this godforsaken city that makes me feel like i might have a heart worth saving."