His Love

Chapter 8

Klaus' POV
We arrived at the bayou, the air thick with tension. It was eerily quiet—too quiet. The place looked abandoned, as though it had been ravaged. I stepped forward, my voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

"You wolves—come out! I've had enough of your games," I bellowed.

Within moments, they emerged from the shadows. A hundred or more wolves surrounded us, growling and bristling with hostility. They advanced slowly, their eyes burning with hatred.

"Some of your pack members decided to attack my love," I said coldly, addressing the crowd. "Hand over those men, and I might spare the rest of you. But if you refuse..." I smirked, already knowing how this would end. "Well, then, I'll enjoy slaughtering each and every one of you."

A woman stepped forward, her growl fading as she spoke. "Do you think you're part of our pack?" she sneered.

"No, I don't," I replied with a wicked grin. "You are part of my pack. I am your Alpha."

"We don't accept you as our Alpha," she spat. Her eyes gleamed with rage. "We all wish those warriors had killed your bitch. Then you'd know how we feel."

That was enough. In a flash, my hand was around her throat. She clawed at me, trying to fight back, but I snapped her neck with a flick of my wrist. Her lifeless body crumpled to the ground.

"Let the festivities begin," I said, my voice laced with malice as I spread my arms wide. Then, I turned to face the pack with a savage smile.

The wolves charged.

Two lunged at me first, but they didn't stand a chance. I let my fangs descend and tore into the first wolf, ripping out its throat. It collapsed, blood pouring from its wounds. The second wolf met its end as I drove my hand through its chest, pulling out its heart with ease.

More came at me, and I relished every kill. Each one fell—some decapitated, others left with their hearts in my hands. The ground was soaked in blood by the time the last of them fell.

I glanced over at Rebekah. She was wiping her hands clean, having snapped the necks of every wolf that dared to come near her. Elijah, as always, was pristine, save for his blood-stained hands. He calmly cleaned them with his handkerchief.

"Klaus, you look like a mess," Elijah said, raising an eyebrow at my blood-soaked clothes.

I grinned. "I'd almost forgotten how much fun it is to rip someone's heart out."

"Well, I'm ready for a bath," Rebekah said, her voice full of disdain. "Let's go, Niklaus."

"I can't wait to see Tara," I said, almost giddy at the thought.

Rebekah rolled her eyes. "You know she's furious with you, right? She didn't want us to kill the wolves. Still, they deserved it for trying to hurt my sister-in-law."

"I'll deal with it," I replied dismissively. "I'm tired, and all I want is to hold her."

⸻

Tara's POV
I paced back and forth, tears streaming down my face. For hours, I waited. I hoped—prayed—that Klaus hadn't killed those wolves. But deep down, I knew better. I felt powerless, trapped in a nightmare I couldn't escape.

The sound of the door opening made me freeze. I turned, and there he was. Klaus stood in the doorway, covered in blood. He looked like a monster from a horror movie, and it sent a chill down my spine.

"Hello, love," he said cheerfully, as if he hadn't just committed a massacre.

"So, I guess you killed them," I whispered, trying to mask the fear in my voice.

"I had to, Tara," he said, his tone shifting to something more intense. "They tried to hurt you—they could have killed you. I love you, and I would rather die than see you dead in my arms." His voice cracked with emotion, and I knew he meant every word.

But all I could see was the blood. My stomach churned as I turned away from him, wrapping my arms around myself. I couldn't let him see how afraid I was.

"Great," I said hollowly. "Now, why don't you take a shower and get out of those bloody clothes?"

He frowned but didn't press me. He disappeared into the bathroom, and I sat on the bed, trying to push the image of his blood-soaked body out of my mind. When the water turned off, I quickly crawled under the covers and faced away from the bathroom door.

A few minutes later, I felt the bed dip as he slid in beside me. My breath hitched as he moved closer, wrapping his arms around me.

"You know I would never hurt you, right?" he whispered. "I can hear your heartbeat. I know you're scared, but I would never lay a hand on you, my love. You know that, don't you?"

"...Yeah, I know," I said softly, though my voice wavered.

He kissed my temple and pulled me closer. As I drifted to sleep, a single tear rolled down my cheek.

⸻

Two Days Later

Klaus had decided I would return to school today. I walked in with Davina and Josh, glad to have some semblance of normalcy again. After chatting briefly, they left me to head to my locker. For the first time in a while, I was alone.

That is, until someone grabbed my arm and pulled me into an empty hallway. Startled, I turned to see Damon, his face pale and anxious.

"Tara," he said, his voice a mix of relief and worry. "I'm so glad you're back. I was worried. Josh told me what happened, but I couldn't come to see you...not with Klaus around. I wish I could've been there to protect you."

I touched his arm gently, trying to reassure him. "It's okay, Damon. Davina protected me. I'm just glad you weren't there—you could've gotten hurt."

"I wouldn't have cared," he said firmly. "I can heal. You can't. I care about you, Tara. I..." His eyes flicked to my lips, and before I could stop him, he leaned in and kissed me.

His lips were soft, and for a moment, I froze. Then reality hit me, and I pushed him away. Without saying a word, I turned and ran, his voice calling after me.

⸻

I spent the rest of the day trying to act normal. I avoided Damon as much as I could, but by lunch, it was impossible. He sat right next to me, his presence suffocating.

"So, Tara, what are you going to wear to the Mikaelson Ball?" Davina asked casually.

"What ball?" I asked, confused. "No one told me about a ball."

"It's in two months," she explained. "It's this high-class event they throw every year. You'll need to dress up. Luckily, I'll know someone other than my date—Josh."

"Lucky you," I muttered. "I'm stuck with the devil himself."

Damon chuckled, leaning closer. "You could always bring me, sweetness."

"Stop calling me that!" I snapped.

"Sorry," he said, though his grin told me he wasn't.

Before I could say anything else, my timer went off, and I bolted from the table.