Rebekah and Kol Mikaelson are heretic witches and have been for a thousand years.
Read their story and the story of their wolf/vampire hybrid brother Klaus.
The three indomitable hybrids.
Bound by a vow stronger than the vow made by all the Mikaels...
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MIKAELSON MANSION.
Rebekah brushed her hair into a high ponytail, pulled the hairband tightly around it and nodded at her reflection. Kol leaning in the doorway smirking at her, "It is laughable seeing you in workout wear," She chuckled back at him.
"A male running after the doppelganger will look suspicious even at this early hour, better that I do this. Do you have the sanctuary set up?" Kol nodded.
Rebekah brushed past him, "Later brother," She was gone in a rush of wind. Kol smirked after her.
Damon woke cobalt eyes staring up at the ornate white ceiling of the room. A wide radiant smile on his lips one very few witnessed or he let see. He turned his head to the right and saw the titan haired beauty on her side felt the warmth of her bare arse against his thigh, long hair splayed across the white pillow. The perfect flawless white skin of her shoulders and back on view to him. He ran light fingers down her back. Smirking when she did not stir. Sage could always sleep like the dead.
Damon turned his head to the left. The tall broad viking on his back. The chiseled handsome face relaxed in repose. The broad expanse of chest rising and falling rhythmically. The long viking sword of battle tattooed on the left pectoral on the right pectoral a tattoo of a viking axe. On the long outside thigh and leg of the exposed body of Finn was the Aegishjalmr/Aegishjalmur, The Helm of Awe. A symbol that started at the hip and ended at his ankle of the long lean body of the original male. An intricate tattoo that defined the eldest Mikaelson male, marked him as the eldest son of a viking. Even though Damon knew Mikael Mikaelson had been an arshole of epic proportions. Finn took his heritage and viking blood seriously. Damon had respected that, his own Italian heritage important to him and Stefan.
"Still a fowl, elsker," Damon shifted his head to see the warm chocolate eyes open looking at him, the husky deep voice low. Damon smirked.
"Always."
"Our home is yours," Finn huskily replied, threading his hands through the silky raven hair at the nape of the pale firm neck and pulling Damon's lips to his. Finn released a breathless Damon. Damon leaned towards the delectable scented woman pressing a kiss to her exposed shoulder then gracefully vamped from between them in the bed landing noiselessly on his feet, he watched Finn roll on his side gather Sage to himself and buried his head in her neck falling back to sleep.
Damon went to the bathroom and stepped into the shower that was a sumptuous replica of his own at home. Having learnt fine, decadent taste from Sage and Finn all those centuries ago.
Once finished he walked out with a towel around his hips into the dressing room and opened the large massive sliding doors of the meters long wardrobe. He smiled when he saw in the middle section of the expanse of wardrobe, brand new clothing his size and his taste all high quality. A warmth spread through his chest he hadn't felt in centuries. This is what love was. Care, affection, acceptance, passion, lust and loyalty. Time hasn't changed the three of them when it comes to true feelings and connection.
