The sun had dipped below the horizon by the time Elena reached her new apartment in the Garden District. The city's chaotic charm was a dull hum in the distance now, replaced by the rustling of trees and the occasional creak of old shutters swaying in the warm breeze.
She climbed the worn stairs of the historic building, her heels clicking softly against the steps. The place was modest, tucked between overgrown ivy and iron balconies, but it had character—and more importantly, it was hers. A clean break. A new beginning.
Or at least, it had been.
Elena stopped at her door, her hand pausing mid-reach.
Something was sitting on the welcome mat.
A long, rectangular box. Black velvet. No note. No markings.
Her heartbeat quickened. For a second, she debated leaving it untouched—calling someone, doing literally anything other than what she was about to do.
But of course, curiosity always won.
She bent down slowly and picked it up, feeling the surprising weight of it in her hands. With hesitant fingers, she lifted the lid.
Inside, nestled in black silk, was an antique dagger.
But not just any dagger.
It gleamed faintly in the low hallway light, its handle carved with delicate fleur-de-lis patterns and a single blood-red ruby embedded at the hilt. Next to it, almost hidden in the folds of fabric, was a folded slip of parchment.
She unfolded it, heart thudding.
"A token for your protection. New Orleans can be... unforgiving. –K"
Elena stared at the note, the familiar slant of his handwriting making something clench in her chest.
Of course it was him.
Klaus.
Always a mix of menace and meaning.
She brought the box inside, locking the door behind her. The apartment was still mostly bare—just a couch, a couple of boxes, and the lingering scent of fresh paint. She set the dagger on the counter and stood back, arms crossed, trying to make sense of it.
Was it a warning? A gesture of good faith? A mind game?
With Klaus, it was probably all three.
She ran a hand through her hair, exhaling slowly. Whatever he wanted, he wasn't going to say it outright. Not Klaus. He preferred riddles and red wine, declarations with double meanings.
Elena walked over to the window, looking out over the darkened street. Somewhere out there, he was watching. Or waiting.
"You should be," he'd said.
She hated how the words echoed in her mind like a whisper she couldn't shake.
Still holding the note, Elena turned back to the dagger and whispered to the empty room, "What game are you playing now, Klaus?"
YOU ARE READING
CHAOS ☾ (KLENA.)
Fanfiction"There's fire in your eyes. Darling, I know that look. It's all too familiar." - I DON'T OWN ANY CHARACTERS IN THIS BOOK.
