WAR OF HEARTS ↠ KOL MIKAELSON [1]

2:01

[ THE STAND: CHAPTER ONE ]

Dearest Rebekah,

I trust this letter reaches you in good health, though I wish my news were more hopeful. As always, I find myself trying to hold together the fragmented remains of our family, but I fear that the divide between our brothers is deeper than ever. Klaus, in his infinite arrogance, refuses to apologize. The blood he's spilled—Hayley's blood—has stained his hands, and no amount of time will wash it away. Meanwhile, Elijah remains trapped in his bitterness, unable to forgive. I've tried everything in my power to mend this rift, but my efforts have been futile. We are a house divided.

Yet, all is not bleak. Niklaus has kept his word—Marcel controls the Quarter, though not without complications. He's established a fight gym in the old St. Anne's Church, a place where the strong are tested, and the weak are weeded out from his growing vampire community. Surprisingly, Elijah has joined him in these sessions. Sparring seems to be the only way Elijah can release the fury that burns inside him. His anger is volcanic, and I fear it will destroy him if left unchecked.

As for Hope, she grows more radiant by the day. Niklaus dotes on her, the loving father she never knew she had. But even his devotion cannot ease the pain of her separation from Hayley. The curse upon Hayley remains unbroken. Every full moon, she is forced to endure her transformation, her time with Hope reduced to a mere night every month. I've scoured every tome, spoken to every witch of worth, but the spell placed upon her and the Crescent wolves is too potent, too ancient. And in this climate, it would be reckless to seek help from outside.

Davina, too, is a growing threat. Her hatred for us knows no bounds, and as Regent of the covens, she wields immense power. She holds Niklaus responsible for Kol's death, and I can't deny her rage is justified. Rhea and Ares, once our allies, have fled the Quarter in search of greater power to bring Kol back. I fear they will never return to our fold. The bond between them and our family has been severed, perhaps irreparably.

Niklaus, ever the enigma, has begun frequenting Camille's company again. He speaks of "atonement," but I know him too well. His heart remains heavy with the weight of his sins, yet he shows no remorse. His so-called redemption only drives Elijah further away, feeding the growing chasm between them.

Rebekah, I ask for your counsel. How do we heal this fracture between our brothers? How do I restore our family to what it once was? I await your wisdom.

Until then, I remain your loving sister,
Freya.

⸻

The French Quarter Cemetery was bathed in the pale glow of the moon as Davina Claire stood at the center of the gathering. The stone pathways and towering mausoleums loomed around her like silent sentinels, guarding the secrets of the dead. She faced the witch elders of the nine covens, their faces etched with suspicion, impatience, and even hostility.

"Thank you for coming," Davina began, her voice steady, though the weight of her newfound position as Regent was evident. "I spent the night consulting with the ancestors. Their message was clear. We must defend our homes, remain strong. But there is to be no expansion into Gentilly." The murmurs began immediately—discontented, hushed conversations exchanged among the elders. Some shot her looks of disdain, while others openly glared, their dissatisfaction palpable.

"This is to avoid bloodshed," Davina continued, her tone firm, trying to suppress the anxiety gnawing at her. "A turf war with the vampires is not a battle we want to wage." Her words barely quelled the unrest. The tension thickened like a storm brewing in the distance.

Kara Nguyen, one of the more outspoken elders, scoffed loudly, her dark eyes flashing with defiance. She pulled up the hood of her cloak and turned to leave without a word.

"Excuse me, Kara," Davina snapped, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "I did not dismiss you. Do not walk away from me."

Kara's lips curled into a sneer as she murmured an incantation under her breath. In an instant, a sharp crack echoed through the cemetery, and Davina screamed in agony as her wrist snapped, the bone twisted at an unnatural angle. Before Davina could react, a ring of fire erupted around her, trapping her in a circle of flame.

Fear surged through her, her mind racing as the heat licked at her skin. But before panic could consume her, two figures stepped out from the shadows—Rhea and Ares Monroe.

"Well, well," Rhea's voice cut through the chaos, smooth and sharp. "Attacking your Regent? That won't bode well with your ancestors, will it?" She approached Kara with a casual confidence, her lips curling into a dangerous smile.

Davina's heart leapt at the sound of Rhea's voice, her fear giving way to relief as she caught sight of her friends. Rhea's presence was both a balm and a warning—though her smile was radiant, her power was undeniable, simmering just beneath the surface.

"You have no right to interfere," Kara spat, her eyes narrowing at the siblings. "You call yourselves witches? You're nothing but abominations."

Ares feigned shock, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Ah, 'abomination'—such a dramatic word. It's always amusing how people throw that around when they feel threatened, don't you think, Rhea?"

"Indeed, brother," Rhea replied, her voice laced with mock sympathy. "For all the centuries you've called us abominations, we were still one of you. But now... your nine covens don't stand a chance." As she spoke, the air in the cemetery shifted, thickening with the palpable hum of magic. It radiated from the siblings like a tidal wave, crashing over the assembled witches, leaving them visibly shaken.

Kara's defiance faltered. She scowled, but the weight of the Monroes' power was undeniable. Without another word, she turned and disappeared into the shadows, her retreating form soon followed by the other elders. The tension in the air dissipated, though the threat still lingered.

Davina exhaled a shaky breath as the fire surrounding her vanished. She rushed to Rhea, pulling her into a tight embrace. "I thought I'd lost you both," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Rhea returned the hug fiercely, her eyes softening. "We're not going anywhere, little witch."

When Davina turned to Ares, the embrace they shared was softer, more intimate. Rhea raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on her lips as she watched the connection between them.

"When did you get back?" Davina asked, pulling away, her eyes gleaming with joy and relief.

"About ten minutes ago," Rhea replied with a grin. "Of course, we had to find you first."

Davina smiled warmly, grateful for their timely arrival. "Thank you. For everything." Her gaze flicked between them, a deep sense of gratitude settling over her.

Ares chuckled, nudging her playfully. "You know we'd never let anyone hurt you, Davina. Not on our watch."

"How was Greece?" Davina's question was casual, but the look that passed between the siblings told her there was more to the story.

Ares sighed dramatically. "Oh, Davina Claire. You'd better sit down for this one."