His Love

Chapter 13

Tara's POV
I woke up in Klaus's bedroom, my head spinning and my body aching. The last thing I remembered was seeing Damon pinned to the ground in the bayou. A soft white blanket covered me, but I shoved it off, exposing my battered body. My eyes fell to my leg, and I gasped—the bone was still out of place. Pain shot through me like lightning, tears streaming down my face as panic took over.

What happened to Damon and Ella? Were they still alive?

I bit back a sob and sucked in a shaky breath, forcing myself to limp to the door. Every step sent waves of agony up my leg, but I had to get out. I had to know.

Just as I cracked the door open, Klaus Mikaelson's face appeared before me.

"Going somewhere, love?" he drawled, a wicked smirk on his lips.

Before I could answer, his hand shot out and gripped my arm—right where yesterday's bruise throbbed painfully. He dragged me back to the bed with ease and shoved me down.

"Why are you out of bed?" Klaus demanded, his voice cold.

I ignored the question. "What did you do to Damon and Ella?"

His smirk widened into a twisted grin, and he chuckled darkly before abruptly stopping. His hand clamped around my chin, his grip bruising.

"Don't speak that boy's name ever again," he hissed.

I glared up at him, defiance boiling in my chest. "Tell me what you did to him, Klaus."

He leaned closer, his blue eyes glinting with malice. "I didn't kill him—yet. But don't worry, love, I plan to take my time torturing him first. Then I'll kill him."

"You can't!" I shouted, my voice breaking. "I love him!"

The room seemed to grow colder. Klaus's expression darkened, his fury radiating off him like heat from a fire. Without warning, he turned to the corner of the room, where an art easel and paints sat. He threw the canvas and paint against the wall with a feral roar, smashing them to pieces.

Before I could react, he grabbed my arm again and hauled me out of the room. I stumbled, the pain in my leg worsening with every step.

"Klaus, stop! You're hurting me!" I cried, but he didn't listen.

We descended a grand staircase, entering the courtyard. Blood stained the stone floor, the scent of iron thick in the air. My bare feet slipped on the slick surface as Klaus continued dragging me toward a cellar door.

The moment we stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted. The air was damp and cold, and the faint scent of decay made my stomach churn. At first, I saw rows of wine bottles in cubbyholes, but as we descended deeper, the stone walls grew darker, the air heavier.

I froze when I saw them—men chained to the walls, their gaunt faces twisted in anguish. Their hands reached out desperately, their wails echoing in the narrow corridor. My heart raced, and I tugged at Klaus's arm, trying to pull away.

"Don't," he said coldly, his grip tightening.

The deeper we went, the more horrifying the sights became. The floor turned to bricks slick with grime, and the cries of the prisoners grew louder. Finally, we reached a dead end.

There, slumped in chains, was a man covered in scars and bruises. My stomach turned at the sight. The bruises weren't their usual purple—they were green, with gray liquid oozing from his wounds.

Klaus shoved me closer, so close I could smell the blood and decay. It wasn't until I looked at the man's face that I realized who it was.

"Damon," I whispered, my voice breaking.

Tears blurred my vision as I reached out a trembling hand to touch his face, but Klaus pulled me back roughly.

"Don't touch him, Tara," he ordered sternly.

Hearing my name seemed to stir Damon. His head lifted weakly, his eyes meeting mine. They were swollen and bloodshot, but I could still see the man I loved behind them.

"Damon..." I choked out, tears streaming down my face.

Klaus stepped between us, his face twisted with fury. Without warning, he began punching Damon repeatedly, his fists colliding with sickening force.

"STOP! PLEASE, STOP!" I screamed, my voice hoarse with desperation.

Klaus paused, blood dripping from his knuckles. He turned to me, his expression eerily calm.

"I've been known to go too far to make a point," he said, his voice low. "But I always get results. Listen to me carefully, Tara. You will never speak his name again, and you will never try to leave me. Do you understand?"

I shook my head, my tears falling freely. "I can't, Klaus. I love him. And I want to go back to my parents."

A cruel smile spread across his lips. "You're right, love. He loves you, and you love him. Is that correct?"

I hesitated, my heart breaking under the weight of his manipulation. "Yes," I whispered, my voice trembling.

"Very well," Klaus said, his tone chillingly nonchalant. "Damon, listen carefully. I have your sister. Here's my offer: I'll let you and your sister leave alive... or I'll kill you and let your sister and Tara go. The choice is yours."

Damon's eyes widened in panic. His gaze shifted between Klaus and me, his expression twisted with guilt. Finally, he looked away from me, staring at the wall as if it held the answers.

"I'll take my sister and leave," Damon said, his voice barely audible.

Klaus laughed, the sound echoing through the cellar. He snapped his fingers, and two men dressed in black appeared. They unshackled Damon's chains and dragged him away.

"Damon!" I screamed, reaching out for him, but my body gave out, and I collapsed to the floor.

Klaus knelt beside me, his hand gently caressing my tear-streaked face. His touch was soft, but his eyes were cold.

"Don't cry, love," he said, tilting my chin so I was forced to meet his gaze. "I would never leave you like he did. He may be your first love, but I intend to be your last. However long it takes."

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Did Damon just Betray Tara?