THIS IS THE OLD VERSION OF ULTRAVIOLENCE, NEW VERSION POSTED ON PROFILE... SORRY AND THANK YOU!
❝ She was filled with poison but blessed with beauty and rage ❞
When young and powerful Makena George returns home to New Orleans to help an old friend s...
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A/N - BEFORE YOU READ, THIS BOOK HAS BEEN DISCONTINUED! I'm currently re-writing this whole story as I wasn't happy with how this was developing and also felt it was very dragged out. The new and improved version is posted on my profile. Thank you! xx
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Two years ago.
"No! Please don't do this to me Bekah!" Kenna wailed laying on the cold grimy floor as she pulled on the chains holding her down.
"This is for your own good love, I'm so sorry." Rebekah sighed standing over the young broken girl on the floor, she holds her head high holding in her tears.
"You betrayed me, I trusted you!" Kenna cried looking up to Rebekah, all the lights around the room shattered causing Rebekah to flinch slightly.
"Can't you see? You're dangerous, powerful and you're a threat to me and my family." Rebekah explains coldly but Kenna just cries, "do it." Rebekah nods to the witches standing around Kenna.
Kenna looks up to see her father, "Today, the burden of our coven will finally die!" He shouts to the other witches and Kenna felt her heart break beyond repairable.
"I hate you." Kenna seethed before her father nods to the women standing around her.
"Phasmatos Tribum, Exum Sue, Redem Su Pas Quo." They begin to chant as they strip Kenna of her power, all that could be heard that night was the gut-wrenching screams and cries of a young Makena George.
Present Day.
After receiving Rebekah's urgent message Makena George left the comforts of New York and set off on her journey to New Orleans. She sat in the back of a taxi watching the world go by. She scoffed driving by the New Orleans sign.
"The last time I did that original a favour she had me drained of my magic, yet here I am... finally powerful again and doing more favours for the Mikaelson." Kenna muttered to herself.
The taxi came to a halt and Kenna gave the man some money before stepping out, she inhaled the fresh air as a smirk tugged on her lips.
Kenna walked down the streets of New Orleans, some dying roses caught her attention, her smirk faded as she walks over and places her hands over the crumpling petals, she looks around before quietly chanting.
"Belle la vie a cette fleur, maintentant." She whispers and opens her eyes to see the flowers gain colour come to life. She smiles and smells the roses in front of her but her smile falters when she feels someone watching her, she looks around with furrowed eyebrows to find nobody there and shrugs before walking away.