His Love

Chapter 32

Klaus's POV

I glared down at the trembling man tied to the chair. "REPEAT YOUR WORDS VERY CAREFULLY," I growled, my voice echoing in the dimly lit room.

The witch began to shake, his words spilling out in a panicked stammer. "It... it was Mikael. A couple sent me to take the girl. Mikael gave me a spell to knock out that witch and your sister. I only did it because they killed our coven leader... They're the new leaders now, and they threatened to kill me," he whimpered.

I leaned his chair back, gripping his throat tightly. "I WILL KILL YOU IF YOU DON'T GIVE ME THE LOCATION OF THE COVEN!" I roared, my fangs extending as my eyes turned gold.

"I... I can't!" he gasped, shaking his head violently.

I tightened my grip until his eyes began to roll back. He clawed at my arm, his nails digging into my skin. Finally, I released him, and he fell forward, coughing violently.

"The location is..." he began, but his words were cut off as he started convulsing. Blood poured from his eyes, and he gagged on thick, crimson liquid.

"What the—" I started, but the scene escalated quickly. He choked harder, blood and chunks of what looked like his intestines spilling from his mouth.

"GO GET FREYA! NOW!" I barked at Diego, who immediately sprinted out of the room.

I lowered the man to the floor, watching helplessly as his life drained from him. His heartbeats grew faint, then stopped entirely.

Freya burst through the door moments later, her breath ragged.

"He's already dead," I sighed, gesturing to the lifeless body.

Freya knelt beside him, using a small knife to examine his eyes. "Definitely hexed," she muttered.

"He mentioned new coven leaders who want Tara," I said. "I'm certain it's her parents. They must've put a hex on their members to keep their location hidden."

Freya stood, brushing her hands off on her dress. "You'll need to keep an even closer eye on Tara now," she said with a resigned tone.

I nodded, wiping my bloodied hands with a towel. Tossing it to Diego, I ordered, "Clean this up." Without another word, I followed Freya out of the room.

⸻

Tara's POV
I wandered down a quiet street, stopping in front of a quaint house. I stepped inside, finding myself in a cozy living room. The aroma of home-cooked food drew me into the kitchen, where a man and woman stood cooking together, smiling warmly at me.

I blinked, and the scene shifted. The once-pristine house was now in shambles. The air smelled of rot, and the walls were smeared with filth.

Voices began to echo in my mind, pulling me out of the dream.

"No. I need you to search! They have to be somewhere, and someone is leaking information about her whereabouts!" Klaus's angry voice cut through the haze.

I opened my eyes, groaning softly. Stretching, I sat up in bed, catching Klaus ending a phone call.

He turned to me, his frustration melting into a gentle expression. He walked over, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek before sitting beside me.

"Is your headache gone?" he asked, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.

I nodded. "I think I just needed some rest."

"Good," he said with a smile. "It's late. I didn't want to disturb you earlier, but you missed dinner. Are you hungry?"

"Starving," I admitted.

"Meet me downstairs," he said, standing and heading for the door.

I went to the bathroom, quickly showered, and dressed before heading down. Klaus stood in the kitchen, setting a plate on the dining table. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing his veined forearms, and a towel hung casually over his shoulder.

"Ah, there you are. Come, sit," he said, pulling out a chair for me.

I sat down, glancing at the plate of grilled chicken and rice. "This looks amazing. Tell the chef I said thank you."

Klaus smirked. "You're looking at him, my love. Now eat."

I blushed, glancing at him as I cut into the chicken. Taking a bite, I couldn't help but moan softly. "This is incredible!"

He chuckled. "I'm glad you like it. Now, listen carefully while you eat," he said, his tone turning serious.

⸻

Klaus's POV

"From now on, you'll come straight home after school," I said firmly. "You won't be going anywhere else. If you want to shop, I'll bring your favorite designers here. If you want to hang out with Davina, I'll have her visit. I just want you safe."

Tara's fork paused mid-air. "No," she said, her voice rising. "I just got a taste of freedom. I know the club wasn't what I expected—and I'll never drink again—but I liked the experience. I'm not going to give that up. And there's the homecoming dance in two weeks. I am going."

"I said no," I replied sharply. "I can't explain why, but it's for your own good."

She slammed her hands on the table, standing abruptly. "I don't care! You can't just lock me up!" she shouted before storming off.

"COME BACK HERE!" I yelled after her, but the sound of her footsteps pounding up the stairs was her only reply. The door slammed shut.

I sighed, walking to the bar. Pouring myself a glass of bourbon, I swirled it slowly before taking a sip.

"I hate seeing her upset," I thought, staring into the amber liquid. But keeping her safe was worth her anger—for now.

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I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter!
Do you think she will go to the dance in secret? Do you think Tara will be able to regain her memories by the wedding?
Please vote and comment it encourages to write more!