𝐀𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘 ⚜️ ELIJAH MIKAELSON

[ The Visitor ]

CHAPTER 36
[ New Orleans, 2013 ]

Georgia didn't remember leaving the compound.

One moment, she had been standing in the courtyard, staring at the empty salt ring where Davina had once been. The next, she was across the river, her hands numb from the cold, her mind an empty void.

She couldn't feel anything.

Not the ache in her legs from walking miles, not the damp chill that clung to her skin, not even the sharp sting of betrayal that should have burned through her veins. She was hollow, her body moving on instinct alone, each step an echo of the ones before, carrying her further and further away from the wreckage of what her life had become.

Her thoughts churned as she walked, replaying the events in an endless, tormenting loop. She tried to find the moment it had all gone wrong, tried to trace the cracks in her world back to their origin. Had it started the day she met Elijah? Was that the moment fate had sealed itself, when she had looked at him and allowed herself to believe he was different from the rest of his family? Was that their point of no return? Had it been when she let herself love him, blind to the warnings and the inevitable consequences?

Or had it been earlier? Perhaps this was always destined to happen the moment she became entangled in their world, caught in the gravitational pull of their ancient, bloody legacy.

She had fought so hard to balance on the edge of two lives, to believe she could have both—that she could love Elijah Mikaelson and still protect her own. It had been a fragile illusion from the start, a lie she had clung to with all the desperation of someone too afraid to choose.

But Davina had seen through it.

Her sister had begged her to walk away, to leave the Mikaelsons behind before they could destroy everything they touched. But Georgia hadn't listened. She had convinced herself that Elijah was different. That he would protect them, that his promises meant something. And now Davina was gone.

Because of him.

Because of her.

Her stomach clenched violently, bile rising in her throat as the weight of her choices settled like lead in her chest. This wasn't just grief—it was guilt, crushing and unrelenting.

If she had left when Davina had asked her to, if she had put her sister above her own heart, Davina wouldn't have been in their path. She wouldn't have been a pawn in their game, wouldn't have been sacrificed. Georgia had thought keeping Davina close would keep her safe. She had believed that, as long as they were together, they could face anything.

But she had been wrong. Terribly, catastrophically wrong.

She hadn't protected Davina. She had dragged her into the abyss. And now there was nothing left but grief and shattered promises.

The cold wind lashed at her skin, but she didn't notice. She couldn't outrun the truth, couldn't escape the brutal certainty that this was her fault. It had been her choices that led them here. Elijah had wielded the knife, but she had placed Davina in his reach.

The thought made her sick to her core.

Suddenly, she was at Marcel's door, her entire body trembling as she pushed it open. She didn't hesitate—there was nowhere else to go.

Inside, the warmth of the apartment barely registered. Her skin was cold, her veins frozen with shock. Glass shattered somewhere in the room, jolting her out of her thoughts. She blinked, her gaze locking onto Marcel by the window. His back was to her, but she could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his fists clenched as he hurled another bottle at the wall. It exploded into fragments, sparkling like shards of grief and fury.