The compound was a blaze of light and color this evening.

He'd let Rebekah plan the party to celebrate her return to town and their reunion of sorts with Freya. In Rebekah's hands, the event had blossomed into a lavish ball, and as Klaus looked down over the courtyard, his hands gripping the railing, he couldn't help but smile. Their family never missed an opportunity to make a grand gesture. Nor an opportunity to ensure their guests knew whose city this was.

He watched the couples dancing below, but as he scanned the room, his gaze hardly registered any of their faces. He was restless tonight. There was something missing.

Someone missing.

"Are you going to sulk all night long, or are you going to go find her?"

He was still getting used to the voice, but there was no mistaking the tone.

He turned slightly to look at his younger sister, who stood beside him now in an extravagant dress of shimmering black silk. "I trust," he said, "that you spent as much on the food and entertainment as you did on that gown."

"When have you known me to do anything by halves, Nik?" Rebekah tossed the dark curls that had been piled atop her head. "I think I've outdone myself tonight."

"That doesn't answer my question," he replied.

"It wasn't a question, and you haven't answered mine either."

He averted his gaze to the partygoers below. "Marcel is down there somewhere. I'm sure you wouldn't wish to waste an opportunity to throw yourself at him. Off you go. There's a good girl."

"You can be an insufferable wanker sometimes, do you know that?" Rebekah said with a pout. "And you're not deceiving anyone. Even the guests are asking me why you're standing up here with a scowl on your face instead of actually playing host. By the way, Cami arrived ten minutes ago. But don't worry. I saw Elijah talking to her. I'm sure he'll take good care of her tonight."

Klaus found himself gritting his teeth. "Elijah is a free agent. He may do as he pleases."

"Elijah is a fool who let the woman he loves slip through his fingers," Rebekah said. "Apparently you're going to take a leaf out of his book."

Not wanting to have this conversation, particularly with Rebekah, he tried to steer the conversation back to his brother. "Elijah made the choice to sacrifice his personal happiness for the sake of my daughter. He understands the importance of family. Hope must always be our first priority."

"Has it ever occurred to you that what's best for Hope may actually be what's best for you?"

Happy mom, happy dad, happy baby. "It has been suggested to me."

"Well, if you weren't so stubborn, you'd realize you don't have to be a lonely, miserable tosser for once in your life—" She stopped insulting him and craned her neck over the balcony. "Bloody hell," she whispered.

Klaus followed her gaze. Below them, Marcel, wearing a tux as only he could, was leading someone behind him onto the dance floor. Then he turned to the side, and Klaus caught sight of her for the first time.

She was wearing a gown the color of the sea, one that left her shoulders bare and skimmed her curves before flaring to the floor. Tiny diamonds glinted in her ears and in the hollow of her throat, but otherwise she wore no ornamentation. Her hair was twisted into a knot at the nape of her neck and arranged in simple waves around her face.

He felt a surge of pride. Most of the other women in the room were dressed in much finer designer-label gowns and decked out in ostentatious jewels. And yet she was the one he couldn't tear his eyes from. The one who stole his breath.

"Nik, you have to go down there at once," Rebekah commanded. "She'd much rather dance with you."

"You mean you'd much rather she dance with me than Marcel."

"Will you please go down there?"

Klaus drew his lips into a deliberate smirk that he knew would infuriate his little sister. "I do so enjoy hearing you beg—"

"Nik!"

"Very well," he replied with a sigh, but he didn't move. Instead, he gripped the railing harder.

Because Marcel was putting his arms around Camille, and she was smiling up at him with the same smile that Klaus had seen innumerable times, the one that calmed and excited him at the same time. A smile of warmth and light and reassurance.

And he didn't know for a second whether he could trust himself not to kill his adopted son.