WAR OF HEARTS ↠ KOL MIKAELSON [1]

2:05

[ THE STAND: CHAPTER FIVE ]

"I'm sorry, did he just say 'wife'?" Marcel finally asked once Elijah had dismissed the two. Elijah didn't want Marcel making alliances with the Strix—especially with Rhea near Tristan. That combination could be deadly to his family, given the current tensions brewing in New Orleans.

"Yes." Rhea answered curtly, the word leaving a bitter taste on her tongue. She didn't want to linger on the subject, but Marcel's curiosity was far from satisfied, and she could see it in his eyes.

"But I thought you and Kol had been together for, like, ever?" His confusion was palpable. Rhea sighed, knowing there was no escaping this conversation now. Marcel was nothing if not persistent.

"Marcel, things between Kol and me weren't always easy, especially in the beginning." She hesitated for a moment, memories she hadn't revisited in centuries flooding back. "I was practically betrothed to Tristan before the Mikaelsons even set foot in Marseilles. At the time, I harbored feelings for him. Tristan was completely infatuated with me, obsessed even—but none of that compared to what I felt for Kol."

She paused, her gaze drifting as she remembered how fiercely she had loved Kol back then, how young and desperate they'd been. "Kol promised me that when his family left Marseilles, he'd take me with him. But things... they didn't go as planned."

Marcel's brow furrowed. "What happened?"

"Tristan found out about our plan to leave together." Her voice grew colder, her anger still simmering beneath the surface after all these years. "He cornered Kol, threatened him. Said that if he even tried to take me, he'd expose his family for what they really were. He also knew I was a witch, which only added fuel to the fire. Tristan didn't want to lose his grip on me—he wanted to control me, to control my power."

Rhea met Marcel's eyes, her gaze steady and hard. "Say what you will about Kol, but what he did was selfless. He let me go. He left so his family could stay hidden, and so I could be safe from Tristan's wrath."

Marcel looked stunned, his usual smirk replaced by something resembling empathy. "So you stayed with Tristan? You married him?"

"Yes, I married him. It wasn't love—it was survival." Her voice was tinged with a bitterness that Marcel hadn't heard from her before. "Tristan needed to keep his family's standing with the Count De Martel intact, and I was part of that deal. After the Mikaelsons compelled Aurora, Tristan, and Lucien to believe they were Elijah, Rebekah, and Klaus, I stayed behind with Ares to protect them from Mikael. For over a century, I played along, keeping them safe. Then, when the compulsion broke, they remembered who they truly were... and the thirst for revenge consumed them. I wanted no part of it. So Ares and I left."

They had reached Marcel's loft by then. Without a word, Marcel headed straight to the bar, pouring them both a drink. He handed her a glass, his curiosity still piqued.

"So... how did you and Kol find your way back to each other after all that?"

Rhea smiled faintly, a rare warmth flickering across her face. "It was in Jerusalem, 1118. The Mikaelsons had been daggered by the Brotherhood of the Five, and Kol... he searched for me. For four years, he searched. And he found me."

Marcel raised a brow. "Four years? Not bad. Still don't like him much, though."

Rhea rolled her eyes at Marcel's predictable comment, the smile still lingering on her lips. "He's not for everyone."

Marcel's expression grew serious, his voice lowering. "But listen, Rhea. The Strix... they've got their eyes on me now. What should I expect?"

Rhea's smile faded. "Nothing good. The Strix are dangerous. If they're interested in you, it's because they want something—and they always get what they want. Be careful, Marcel."

Before he could respond, a new voice interrupted them. "The Strix?"

Both turned to see Ares standing in the doorway. His eyes were distant, like he was struggling to remember something. Rhea instantly noticed the unease in her brother's posture.

"Ares, are you okay?" She stepped toward him, her concern growing as he shook his head slowly.

"No... I don't think I am," he whispered, his voice barely audible. Rhea glanced back at Marcel before grabbing Ares by the arm and pulling him outside.

In the quiet alley, Rhea released her brother, watching with mounting dread as he seemed to unravel before her eyes. "Ares, you've been acting strange ever since I mentioned the Strix. What's going on?"

Ares' breathing quickened, his voice shaky. "I'm... I'm getting flashes. Memories. Rhea, I think... I think I worked with the Strix before I died."

Her blood ran cold. The deadly glint in her eyes sharpened as she placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to ground him. "Ares, I'm going to help you. Let me look into your memories. Maybe I can break through whatever magic is clouding your mind."

He nodded, unable to speak, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each breath. Rhea gently pressed her fingers to his temples, chanting softly, pushing through the dark magic that had buried his past.

It took longer than expected, but the images came to her in fragmented flashes.

"It's a pleasure to have you working with us." Aya's voice echoed in her mind.

"We'll end the lives of our sires one day, without reaching our demise, thanks to you." Tristan's arrogant words burned in her ears.

"I can't help you anymore. I have to leave... I need to see my sister." Ares' desperate voice followed.

And finally, the last haunting memory. "I'm sorry, but I cannot let you live with the knowledge you have of our plans. I have orders to kill you." Mohinder's voice was cold and final.

Rhea gasped as she pulled out of Ares' mind, both of them leaning against the alley wall for support. The weight of the truth hung heavy between them.

"You really were working for the Strix?" Rhea's voice was a mix of disbelief and fury.

"I didn't even remember it until now!" Ares' voice trembled with confusion and guilt.

Rhea's mind whirled with the implications. "The Strix killed you. And now... now I'm going to kill them." The resolve in her voice was unshakable, a promise of vengeance she intended to keep.

▽▲▽▲▽

Rhea had spent the night simmering in her fury. The revelation about Ares' death had consumed her thoughts, and she felt the rage bubbling beneath the surface. Ares was fragile, Davina had been the one to comfort him, and Rhea was too wound up to do it herself.

Her phone rang, snapping her out of her thoughts. She answered without glancing at the screen.

"Hello?"

"Rhea."

Her blood boiled at the sound of Tristan De Martel's voice, but she forced herself to remain calm. "What do you want, Tristan?"

"I had hoped your attitude would soften after yesterday's encounter, but it seems not." His tone was infuriatingly smug. "I just wanted to let you know that your dress is on its way."

Rhea raised a brow, confusion settling in. "Dress? Why are you sending me a dress?"

"For the party, of course. Marcel's initiation, should he succeed. The invitation is on its way as well, but I wanted to speak to you personally. And Rhea? Don't be late."

Before she could respond, the line went dead. She clenched her fists, her mind already spinning with plans for retribution. Slowly, a grin crept across her face.

Payback was going to be sweet.

She pulled out her phone, sending a quick message to the number Tristan had called from.

I'm arriving early. I want to talk. Alone.