𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝗹𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗺𝘆 - 𝗻𝗶𝗸𝗹𝗮𝘂𝘀 𝗺𝗶𝗸𝗮𝗲𝗹𝘀𝗼𝗻

Chapter 11

Scotland, 1988
(Flashback)

Klaus always considered New Orleans his home, but he had a special place in his heart for the mansion they acquired from Lord McCabe in the early eighteen hundreds. He wouldn't admit it, but it was because this was one of the few places where his family was with him, undaggered. They lived there for a decade, and everything almost felt normal.

He looked down at Rebekah, peacefully lying in her coffin stored in the secret basement. Caressing her hair softly, he closed the coffin before returning to the party upstairs. This was what he did in his leisure time: throw parties, gain acquaintances, all while plotting to get his hands on Katerina and find a way to break his curse.

"Klaus Mikaelson?"

He turned at the sound of his name, only to find a bearded man with bright green eyes and dark blonde hair similar to his own. Assessing the man from top to bottom, a smirk crept onto Klaus's face.

"I don't recall inviting your kind here. But anyway, how can I help you?" he asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. The man's green eyes narrowed.

"You mean 'our kind'?" the man replied, extending his hand. "Alexander Smith."

Klaus looked down at the extended hand with a sour expression, not returning the handshake.

"What business do you have here?" he gritted out.

Alexander begrudgingly took his hand back, glancing around at the vampires in the room. He fished a small notebook from his pocket, quickly scribbling something down. Klaus watched with a cold expression but a curious mind. When Alexander finished, he handed the paper to Klaus before walking away.

Klaus looked down at the piece of paper, his blood running cold at the words scribbled in neat handwriting: "We have your white wolf. Meet me in the garden."

The white wolf. Not just any white wolf—his white wolf.

Klaus vividly remembered the day he turned for the first time. The freedom, the thrill, and the emotions he experienced that day were unparalleled. All of it was taken away after his mother placed the hybrid curse on him. But not everything was lost.

When he triggered his werewolf curse, he began having visions and dreams of a white wolf. He could never see its full face, always just the right side. There was also a woman in those dreams, peeking from behind the wolf. Her eyes were the most common shade of dark brown, yet the most captivating he had ever seen. For years, he painted the half-white wolf from his dreams. His family saw his desperation and questioned him numerous times, but he never provided answers.

He searched every corner of the world for answers but found none. Until one day, he stumbled upon Gloria, a knowledgeable witch who provided some insights. She spoke of the original primordial family and the mate bond.