❝I thought they were just bones.❞
❝If you truly believed that, you would have let her rest.❞
They could bury her bones, but they couldn't bury the truth.
For 90 years, Klaus Mikaelson has been haunted by the memory of the woman he betrayed.
For...
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Mystic Falls, March 2010
Rowan tossed in her bed, wriggling through the sheets.
Being a witch with her gifts came with its own set of frustrations, one being the dreams. Most times Rowan couldn't be sure whether she was having nightmares or premonitions. 1000 years and it never got easier.
She had been dreaming all night about Elena, seeing her bundled up into the back of a car. As the sun came up her dream had changed. Elena was in a house, an old and empty one. Rowan might have choked it up to an over-active imagination on her part had it not been for the niggling feeling in her gut that something was wrong.
Her suspicions were confirmed when the door to her hotel room almost came off its hinges as Damon forced his way inside.
"Where is she?" Damon demanded.
"Who?" Rowan yawned, not bothering to cover herself up. Stefan had the decency to avert his eyes as he followed his brother into the room, but Damon stared her down.
"You know who. Elena."
Rowan rolled her eyes. "Yes, you caught us at a terrible time, I'm afraid. Elena and I were just in the middle of a rather steamy -"
"Rowan!" Stefan pushed, not in the mood for jokes.
"Does it look like she's hiding under my sheets?" She raised a brow.
"What did you do with her, Rowan?" Damon asked.
"Nothing, I haven't even laid eyes on her since last night. And if I had, don't you think I'd have hot-footed it out of town by now?"
"Well -"
"Let's use our big boy thinking caps, shall we? Where did you last leave her?"
"Don't condescend me, Rowan."
"You're the one who barged in here like the bloody Terminator, Damon." She rose from the bed, coming face to face with him, the pair glaring at each other.
