WAR OF HEARTS ↠ KOL MIKAELSON [1]

epilogue

| FOR HOPE, FOR FAMILY
CHAPTER SIX |

The sky above the bay was bruising into night. A streak of violet bled into the horizon as the last threads of sunlight dipped behind the skyline, casting San Francisco in that golden-blue hush just before the dark truly took hold. The city lights began to blink to life below, and the cool wind carried the scent of salt and rain.

Rhea stood on the terrace, arms folded tightly across her chest, her fingers digging slightly into her sleeves. She stared blankly into the distance, though she wasn't really seeing the view. Her thoughts were elsewhere—miles away. In New Orleans.

It had been days. And she hadn't heard a single word.

Kol had gone back without her, insisting he handle the final confrontation alone. No matter how much she argued, begged, cursed at him—he'd kissed her forehead and told her it had to be him. He wouldn't risk her. Not again.

But ever since he'd left, that sickening ache hadn't left her. A gnawing dread had rooted itself deep in her gut like thorns. Something was wrong. Something had to be wrong. Every second he stayed away felt like a century on her chest.

Ares and Davina had done what they could. They brought her tea, offered to spar, dragged her into half-hearted movie nights. But Rhea knew the truth.

She wouldn't breathe again until Kol was standing in front of her.

Her arms tensed as the wind picked up. Then—

"Something troubling you?"

The voice—that voice—broke through her thoughts like a spell unraveling. Gentle. Teasing. Infinitely familiar.

She froze.

Her head snapped toward the sliding glass door.

There he stood. Kol. Her Kol. Framed in the light like something out of a memory. Disheveled, grinning faintly, leather jacket dusted from travel—but alive. Whole.

"You're back," she breathed, her voice breaking just slightly.

Kol nodded as he stepped closer, his smile soft. "I'm back, sweetheart."

She moved toward him, hand reaching before thought could catch up. She touched his chest, just to feel the solid weight of him beneath her palm.

But as her fingers lingered, she felt it. Not a wound. Not magic.

A heaviness in him.

"What happened?" she asked, eyes searching his face.

He let out a breath, then offered her a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"The Hollow is gone," he said. "That nightmare's finally over."

She exhaled, but he wasn't finished.

"But... she lives on. In us." He looked away briefly. "Me. Niklaus. Elijah. Rebekah. We each took a piece of her into ourselves. It was the only way to destroy her without destroying Hope too."

Rhea's breath caught.

Kol looked up, voice flat with resignation. "We can't be in the same room again. Not ever."

Silence fell between them like fog.

He'd spent centuries trying to break away from his family, but Rhea knew—knew better than most—that despite his sarcasm and rebellious smirks, Kol Mikaelson loved deeply. Fiercely. And this—this was loss.

She swallowed the lump in her throat. "What about Hope?"

Kol looked out toward the skyline, eyes distant. "She's safe. She'll grow up... happy. But without us."

He didn't say the rest. He didn't need to.

Without Rebekah's laughter. Without Elijah's wisdom. Without her parents' steady presence. And without the uncle who used to pull tricks from his sleeves just to make her smile.

Rhea's heart ached.

She reached for his hand.

"They'll all struggle," she whispered. "Every last one of you. But you did what you had to."

Kol looked at her then. Really looked. And something in his eyes shifted—just slightly.

She offered a faint smile. "So. That's it, then? It's all over?"

For a moment, he didn't answer.

Then he stepped forward, cupped her cheek with a hand that still trembled slightly, and nodded.

"It's over, baby."

And this time, his smile did reach his eyes.

She leaned into him, the tension in her spine slowly beginning to fade, and just as she let herself breathe, her phone buzzed in her pocket.

Rhea pulled it out, brows furrowing—then brightened instantly.

Her whole face lit up.

"What's got you smiling like that?" Kol asked, raising an eyebrow.

She turned the screen toward him.

It was a photo: a delicate hand, a glittering diamond on the fourth finger, set against a backdrop of candlelight.

Attached to it was a single message:

"SHE SAID YES!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Kol laughed, wide and real.

"Finally!" he said, grinning from ear to ear. "Took him bloody long enough."

"I think that calls for celebration," Rhea said, already reaching for her coat.

Kol reached for her hand instead.

"Definitely."

And as the wind picked up and the city below buzzed back to life, they walked down the steps together—fingers entwined, shoulders brushing, hearts unburdened.

For the first time in too long... they weren't running from war.

They weren't chasing ghosts.

They were simply living.

And though they didn't know what the world would throw at them next, one thing was certain—

They were okay.

For now, they had peace.

And each other.