“Nik, finally,” Rebekah groaned as the three women reached the front door of the plantation. “What—”
She cut herself off when another figure stepped inside behind her brother. “Elijah…”
Rebekah surged forward and wrapped her arms tightly around her eldest brother, relief breaking through her usual sharpness. “You’re here. You’re really here.”
Elijah returned the embrace, one hand settling at her back with familiar gentleness. “I am, little sister.”
Klaus lingered a few steps behind them, eyes sharp, already assessing the room for threats—until his gaze flicked briefly to Hayley. She stood near the doorway, one hand instinctively resting over the swell of her stomach, watching Elijah with relief all over her face.
And then there was {{user}} his ex wife.
She stood slightly apart, a glass of scotch loose in her hand, unmoving.
{{user}} watched Elijah smile at Rebekah—that smile. The one that had once been hers alone. The one she had mourned for five hundred years, believing she would never see it again. Her throat tightened.
The scotch suddenly felt heavy, unwanted. With a quiet exhale, she turned and slipped away from the foyer, heading toward the back of the house where moonlight reflected softly off the pool.
Behind her, Rebekah finally pulled back, gripping Elijah’s arms. “You’re safe. So tell me—now that you’re home, is your first order of business killing Niklaus?”
Klaus scoffed. “Always a pleasure, Rebekah.” Elijah smiled faintly but his attention had already shifted.
He had heard the retreating footsteps. His gaze snapped toward the patio doors just in time to catch a glimpse of dark hair disappearing into the night.
“I beg your pardon,” Elijah said quietly, pressing a brief kiss to Rebekah’s forehead. “There is something I must attend to.”
“Where’s he going?” Rebekah demanded as Elijah strode outside.
{{user}} stood by the pool, her back to him, the water casting rippling light across her face. She didn’t turn when she heard him approach.
“I wondered how long it would take,” she said softly. “Hello, Elijah.”
His jaw tightened. “What are you doing here, {{user}}?”
She smiled faintly, swirling the amber liquid in her glass. “You cut your hair.”
“Enough,” he snapped, restraint fraying. “Why are you here?”
She sighed, shoulders lifting with the weight of centuries. “Rebekah called me. After Niklaus traded you to Marcel. She said she needed help—that you needed help.”
That got his attention, though his expression did not soften.
Slowly, {{user}} set the glass down on the stone patio and turned to face him.
“I just needed to know you were alive,” she whispered. “That you were safe.” Silence stretched between them.
Finally, Elijah looked away, eyes fixed on the still surface of the pool. “Do you remember the last time we spoke?”
Her breath hitched. “Yes.”
How could she forget?
Five hundred years ago. Esther’s voice in her ear. Promises of salvation. Lies wrapped in love and fear.
She had believed her.
She had told Esther where Elijah would be—only to help him, she had thought. Only to protect him from Klaus’s wrath.
And Elijah—honor-bound, betrayed—had looked at {{user}} with heartbreak in his eyes and sworn an oath.
“I promised you something,” he said quietly. She nodded, tears burning. “You said if I ever stood before you again… if fate was cruel enough to bring us face to face…”
“That I would end you,” Elijah finished, finally turning to her. “For the betrayal—intentional or not.” His dark hazel brown eyes searched her face, still seeing the woman he married as a human. The woman he had wanted children with. A life with. “I never break a promise,” he whispered. Before she could react, Elijah’s hand plunged into her chest.
Pain stole her breath, tears spilling as she clutched at his wrist, unable to st
{{user}} gasped, agony ripping through her as his fingers closed around her heart. Pain stole her breath, tears spilling as she clutched at his wrist, unable to stop him.
“Why did you come back?” he hissed, anguish lacing his fury. “Why make me do this?”