The Sorceress | Klaus Mikaelson

T H I R T Y - T H R E E

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Damon steps out of Elena's holding cell, releasing an exasperated sigh. No matter what he tries, she doesn't seem to have any interest in turning her humanity back on. It makes him greatly regret siring her to turn it off in the first place.

The sound of the freezer lid closing catches his attention. His head snaps up, piercing blue eyes squinting through the dark, dimly lit hall. Arabella peeks her head around the corner, raising a brow.

"What are you still doing here?" She asks, emerging with two blood bags. Damon's lips turns down rudely.

"Trying to get my girlfriend back. Not that you care."

"You're right, I don't," She smiles pleasantly, leaning against the wall. "I don't care about her humanity being off. Honestly, it just makes her annoying and Katherine-like, but she'll be fine."

"Not when she realizes how many people she killed."

"She's a vamp, big whoop," Arabella frowns at him. "You look like hell. When was the last time you slept?"

"I will sleep," Damon sighs, running a hand through his hair. "When I can have the love of my life beside me again," Arabella pretends to vomit, smirking at the eye roll Damon gives.

"Here," She tosses one of the blood bags his way, the elder catching it swiftly. "Elena's smart, and she's good at manipulating you. You're gonna need your strength, big brother."

"Thanks," Damon nods, a small smile on his lips. Arabella returns the nod, turning and going back upstairs.

It's late in the night, and the rest of Mystic Falls is safely tucked away in their beds, sleeping blissfully. Arabella walks into her room, not bothering to turn on the lights. The moonlight spilling in through the window is enough.

She kicks off her shoes, the blood bag hanging from her teeth as she tosses some pillows on the ground, undoing her comforter. However, her ears perk at the sound of wind blowing into her room. If she remembers correctly, her window had been closed upon coming in.

Arabella eyes a pen sitting on her bedside table, and in a swift, quick motion, she picks it up and sends it spiraling through the air behind her, whipping around. A small, relieved breath leaves her lips at seeing who catches it.

"I could've hurt you."

"Don't flatter yourself, love," Klaus smirks, lowering the pen. He emerges from the shadows, the moon casting a luminescent glow on his pale skin, bouncing off the material of his black coat. "You're jumpy."

"Haven't you heard? There's an immortal witch running around town causing mayhem. Plus, it's creepy to sneak into someone's window," She points out, swiping a stray curl out of her eye. Klaus chuckles softly, tossing the pen on a table. "Heard you took a little vacation. Where'd you go?"

"New Orleans, and I would hardly call it a vacation," Klaus raises his brows, clearly tired from the last few days.

"Well, now you're back," Arabella shrugs. Klaus purses his lips uneasily.

"Actually... I'm not. I'm going back, to stay," His words shock Arabella, her brows raising and mouth falling open in the slightest.

"You're leaving town?" She blinks.

"Permanently, yes," Klaus confirms, taking a few slow steps forward. "But I came back to make an offer to you. Come back with me. To New Orleans," A scoff escapes Arabella's lips at his words.

"Yeah, okay," She laughs sarcastically, but the humor dies down when his face remains stoic. "Wait, you're serious?"

"Very much so," Klaus nods, continuing towards her. "You mentioned once of the injustices done to you by Marcel Gerard. Said there was nothing you could do, for you had no army. Well, I am an army, as is my family. This is your chance for revenge, Arabella."