So this story started as a possibly highwayman-dragon fic and morphed into klaroline during the attempt to break Klaus' curse. Yeah. I don't know how it got here either. But I blame lalainajanes . Thank you justanotherfiveminutes for looking it over!
Written for the 25daysofklaroline: klaroline + any time period!
Note: So in TVD, Katerina was born in 1473, which means that events happened technically very late in the 15th Century. This is only important because of the use of firearms in this story. I've fudged a tiiiiiny bit, but let's assume that Caroline's family would have access to something very similar to a Spanish Arequebusiers, that it's slightly smaller and a touch more reliable (and not a muzzle loader, although they totally were. Sadly, paper cartridges were introduced almost a century later, but I'd already written it in, and oops? Magic?)
Caroline knew that the ritual had failed as her carriage rolled to a halt.
Mouth tight, she stared at the curtain she'd been forbidden from moving, ears straining against the spells that kept her deaf to the outside world. It was the same sense of dread she'd felt the morning her mother had died and later, when word of her husband's hunting accident had reached her. Genevieve shifted restlessly across from her, red hair glinting in the low light, cheekbones sharp with unease. Honestly, Caroline didn't blame her. She'd have been nervous too, if she'd been in the witch's situation.
The monster who had stopped them wasn't known for forgiveness.
And they'd failed.
Not allowing herself to second guess her decision, she hastily tugged off her gloves, fingers trembling from more than just the cold. Reaching beneath her seat, she groped blindly. Genevieve's eyes darted towards her, the skin around her eyes tight with strain.
"What are you doing?"
Caroline glanced up only once, her fingers wrapped around cold metal. "Negotiating."
Genevieve blinked at her, as if she was a silly child. "He doesn't negotiate."
Caroline didn't bother replying. Instead, she double checked that the firearm was loaded correctly. It was terribly unladylike to know how to shoot, but Lady Elizabeth Forbes had been unconcerned about propriety over safety. Her father had avoided his family, spent his time traveling and hunting monsters, so he'd had expressed no opinion. It was how William had found, and then lost, Caroline's now deceased husband, after all.
But her mother, she'd taken the time to correct Caroline, over and over again, until her daughter had been able to hit what she aimed at more times than not.
"Our reputations are useless, Caroline, if we are dead. There are monsters in this world that we cannot always look to others to protect us from."
It was the first real inclination that the things that her father hated were real.
The witch's eyes widened, and she swallowed harshly. "Are you mad? You'll only enrage him."
"Yes," Caroline replied. "If he's hurt any of my horses, I'll shoot him on principle."
The door opened at her words, and Klaus Mikaelson stood with one booted foot braced on the carriage, brow arched. His tumble of curls looked windblown, with glittering flecks of snow, and his eyes were dark, the monster edging into his gaze. He'd forgone shaving, and the day's growth of a beard was annoyingly appealing, even knowing she could be looking at her death. There was an intensity to his anger she hadn't felt before, and a band wrapped around her lungs as he smiled. Dangerously amused, it would only take the smallest misstep for the rage to explode.
"Come now, love, do you think so poorly of me?"
Caroline kept her grip on her firearm. "Yes."
His lashes lowered, something volatile crawling through his gaze. Her next breath went ragged, shoulders and neck rigid as he spoke. "Hmm. I've no quarrel with your horses, Caroline. They are loyal to the company they keep."
Her stomach knotted, at the implication that she and those around her were not. His smile widened, shifting to something violent as he glanced at Genevieve. Caroline very deliberately cocked the hammer. Genevieve had spoken truly, shooting him would only leave him enraged, but it might also buy them time if the witch struck when the bullet hit. It might even allow Caroline the opportunity to discover why she would die.
Find out the secrets that her father and the witch sitting beside her had kept.
Klaus' eyes returned to her face, and he arched a brow. "Do you wish to repeat our first meeting then, Caroline? I shall not be quite so indulgent this time."
Her heartbeat kicked in her chest at the edge of warning in Klaus' voice. Her tongue snaked across her lips as he continued to watch her, the memory of blood and bone leaving her cold. Her fingers remained steady, she refused to flinch.
"No. But if necessary, I will shoot you."
His dimples cut against her skin, and she barely held her shudder as his eyes bled red and black, the edge of his fangs sharp in the low light. Her pulse thundered in her ears so loudly she nearly missed Genevieve's tense words.
"It won't kill him," Genevieve said bitterly. "Nothing will."
Klaus laughed, the sudden picture of amused indulgence. Caroline watched him warily, uncertain of this sudden shift in mood. Crossing his arms, he grinned conspiratorially at Genevieve. "Ah, but pretty Caroline already knows that, don't you, love?"
Only the stiffness in her hands from the cold kept her fingers from trembling. His sudden shift in posture allowed her to see the dark stains along his cravat. Catching her lip tightly between her teeth, she watched Genevieve straighten, bravado firming the witch's posture.
"Why are you here? We are no longer your business."
The monster leaned closer, and the rage she'd sensed earlier returned to his gaze. Genevieve's fingers tightened, and for a moment, Caroline didn't matter. The full intensity of Klaus' gaze pinned Genevieve to the seat, and the softness of his voice when he spoke sent a shudder down Caroline's spine.
"It appears I've been betrayed." Klaus murmured, lashes veiling his gaze. "Sweet Katerina has escaped, and my curse remains unbroken."
Genevieve went white, her lips bloodless as she sat, silent. Klaus seemed unbothered by her continued silence, his hands pressing together in front of him as his head canted to the side. "Tell me, Genevieve. You wouldn't happen to know how such a thing came about, would you?"
Caroline's heart lurched into her throat as the witch remained frozen. And they thought she was mad? Her father's desperation the night past, and Genevieve's cagey panic suddenly made a terrible kind of sense. Swallowing hard, she released the hammer and set the gun aside. Genevieve glanced at her, eyes wild, and Caroline shook her head.
"If you aided Katerina in anyway, I cannot help you." Not this time. Caroline had fought to hard for her life to throw it away. Perhaps later, she'd feel regret, but not now.
"I do enjoy that pragmatism of yours, sweetheart." Klaus said with a violent flash of dimples. Casually, he leaned forward and curled his fingers around Genevieve's throat when her lips parted to speak. She struggled, her nails clawing at his grip. "It would be a pity if it lead you to betraying me as well. I'll return shortly to find out."
Easily, as if he was moving a child, Klaus lifted Genevieve by her throat and pulled her out of the carriage. He shut the door behind him, and Caroline's heartbeat was a drum. Shuddering, she blinked rapidly as she tried to understand the way his words had gouged into her skin.
How strongly she'd reacted to that hint of suggested betrayal.
Klaus Mikaelson was a monster. More, he relished that monstrosity. So why did she hate him a little, for suggesting that she could betray him? That morning, she'd known something was wrong when her father had woken her to demand she dress for immediate travel. Unease had settled low in her stomach when he'd refused to tell her where they were going. It'd been made worse when Genevieve had appeared to help her pack.
Caroline had gotten no answers, even after the carriage had lurched away. Part of her had fervently hoped that this meant that her bargain had finally been met, that the blood vow that had haunted her mother's family was fulfilled. But the tenseness in Genevieve had not faded as they left the grounds of her estate.
Now she knew why. Swallowing, she curled her fingers tightly to withstand the temptation to move the curtain. She couldn't hear anything, but her imagination was vivid. She wasn't sure if seeing more violence would be worse than picturing it.
Needing a distraction, she carefully stowed her gun. It was useless to her now. Glancing around, she pressed her lips tightly together and pulled her gloves back on before patting her hair back into place. With nothing left to do, she stared at her skirts and tried to make sense of the tangled thoughts in her head.
If Genevieve had betrayed Klaus, so had her father. Guts twisting, she pressed her shaking hands together and tried to understand why. Her father hated Klaus, but hatred had never blinded William before. She'd mentally taken apart the situation her ancestors had left her multiple times, and the only resolution had been to cooperate to the best of her ability.
She didn't pity Klaus. It hadn't even been sympathy that had coiled in her chest as she slowly deduced the why's behind his actions. He was a night terror given shape, and he required neither of those emotions from her. What he demanded was unrelenting loyalty, but that was not the same as being loyal for this one task.
And she had been.
Even Genevieve's arrival could not changed the meticulous chessboard Klaus had concocted. Her father's witch had merely been another pawn. She'd witnessed both Klaus and his elder brother weave a complicated web, that no one should've been able to escape. She'd felt pity for Katerina, even though she'd found very little to like about the girl. But what choice did she have? Klaus had made it abundantly clear that first night that he was in control, and that her failure to oblige him would mean a long and tortuous death.
She'd been fourteen at their first meeting, had stood mute and frightened as Klaus had complimented her father on having such a lovely child. William had looked at Klaus with such revulsion and fear, she'd known to hold her tongue. Her mother had been far more practical, had merely watched Klaus with hard eyes.
"You must never forget what he is, Caroline," Elizabeth told her very, very softly long after the monster had left. "Very few ever see the truth of a devil until it is too late. In this, you have the advantage. We are useful, so we live. Never doubt that could change in a moment."
Months later, her mother was gone, and she'd been the last of the line that owed Klaus. Standing next to her mother's grave, she'd seen the truth of it in her father's eyes. If he could've killed her then, destroyed her without suffering any consequences, he would have.
For a time, it seemed like they'd been given a reprieve. But Caroline never forgot that her father had wished for her death. And she remembered the face of the monster who could one day walk into her life and demand his price.
Six months after her husband's death, and six months after her eighteenth birthday, Klaus had reappeared. Time hadn't changed so much as an eyelash on him, and her father had been pale and tight lipped as she joined them. Klaus had smiled at her, dimples and even teeth on full display. Underneath the charm was a jarring calculation, and what might have been a hint of admiration.
She trusted none of it.
That had just seemed to amuse him.
"Come now, sweetheart, this is hardly a funeral. Not yet, at least. I've come to claim a favor that is owed to me, and I'm afraid your father is resistant to paying it."
Wary, because you didn't simply make a pact with a devil, she squared her shoulders. "What favor do we owe?"
There was a flicker of something satisfied at her we, that she couldn't explain. But it jolted through her and she set her teeth to hold her gasp.
"Your mother's death was an unfortunate inconvenience," Klaus said casually, as if he wasn't wielding a rusty knife in her chest. "Since she is no longer here to fulfill her part of her blood bargain, it falls to you."
A million questions lingered on her tongue, and she set her teeth against them. Something curious twisted behind his eyes, and Caroline lifted her chin. "What do you imagine I have to give?"
"Nothing sordid," he returned easily, eyes glimmering with sudden, mocking humor. "I merely need you to make a friend."
She doubted it would be something simple, that it would be anything kind. Monsters did not care for their prey. "Who?"
There was nothing human about this smile. His dimples only emphasized the blade of his lips, and fear wrapped bands around her lungs. "Katerina Petrova."
Her father protested, his words filled with temper, but Caroline had known she wasn't being asked. She'd been told. She also knew without it being said that it was her life, and the lives of everyone she loved, that were now at risk.
Katerina Petrova.
Caroline knew of the girl. She'd caused a stir when she'd arrived in London on the favor of an unnamed benefactor. She'd heard that Katerina was abrasive with a sharp tongue, two traits that did not endear her to suitors. But she dressed with a daring style Caroline thought she could've admired, and it took a certain brashness to gain attention in London.
Her reputation could hardly suffer for being seen in the girl's company, and it hadn't mattered. Agreement was her only choice. But Caroline had learned from her mother, and bending was not breaking. Angling her head, she held those eyes.
"As you wish."
Klaus had smiled, slow and delighted, and continued to watch her with that terrifying calculation in his eyes until she had excused herself. In order for any sort of plan to be arranged, she'd first need an introduction. It would take some finagling to manage it discreetly, and with believable circumstances, but Caroline knew she'd manage. A widow was afforded a small amount of freedom, after all.
What she had not expected was for Klaus to decide to speak to her alone. She been writing the first of several letters, when there had been a noise on her balcony. Temper had stolen her reason, and jaw set, she'd grasped her mother's firearm. It was one thing for him to demand what he felt her family owed him, but she would not be terrorized.
So she shot him.
Klaus had laughed, blood and bone decorating her balcony, his shirt ruined as he approached her. She'd stood pale and stubborn, fingers curled tightly around her pistol and he'd wiped blood from her chin and licked his fingers clean.
"Your aim needs work, sweetheart, if you mean to hit my heart. Wrong side of the chest."
His mocking tone straightened Caroline's spine, and she angrily held those red eyes. "I hit exactly what I aimed for."
Tongue snaking across his lips, both brows arched as he considered her face. "Did you?"
She ignored his question, fired back her own. "Why are you here?"
Hands clasped behind his back, chest a ruined mess, he gave a half bow, eyes bright with amusement. "Why, to plan, of course."
And he'd simply invited himself into her room and sprawled across any surface he deemed desirable. Night after night, he invaded her room and picked apart every action she took. It only seemed to delight him when she pushed back, and no matter how hard she struggled to hold her tongue, his drawling condescending mockery plucked at her temper.
Klaus was not the first man who'd thought himself the master of her personal space, but she was determined that he'd be the last. It'd didn't matter that something about him rubbed against her nerves, that she herself admiring the convoluted workings of his mind a strange fascination. She was nothing but a pretty trap to him, and she was determined to survive the experience.
It'd been exhausting work. Her daylight hours spent carefully arranging matters to suit Klaus. Her early nights spent defending every decision, every step. Even sleep did not bring her respite, Klaus somehow finding her even there. She was no stranger to activities between a husband and wife, her husband's appetites had not been easily satisfied, but her dreams had lent themselves to a different kind of intimacy.
Then, three nights ago, when she'd expected her maid's quick fingers in her hair to unwind her complicated hairdo post-ball, she'd found Klaus. Spine stiff, she'd held steady only through force of will as he slowly removed each pin, her breath unsteady in her throat. Not even her husband had claimed such privileges.
"The moon is in two days."
She bit the inside of her lip, to hold her shudder as his rough fingertips brushed down the nape of her neck. "I know."
His lips curved, and she startled beneath him as Klaus ran his hands through the length of her hair, and then began to meticulously braid it. It was different, in some indecipherable way, to have his hands in her hair instead of her maid's. Each tug, each brush of his body against hers, lit an awareness low in her belly.
"Regrets?"
She lifted her gaze, caught a glimpse of her red cheeks and heavy lidded eyes, and forced herself to meet his shadowed gaze. "As if you'd care."
"It's dangerous," he murmured, wrapping the length of her braid around his knuckles. "Telling me what I find worth my time, Caroline."
"Yet," she replied, voice soft but firm. "You do not deny it."
Klaus laughed softly. "You're brave, Caroline. Perhaps that will save you."
Before she could respond, he lifted her hair to his lips and lingered for a long moment while she watched him from startled eyes. Finally, he released her, stepping into the shadows with a low warning.
"The Ritual will be completed tomorrow, love. Do not betray me. It would be a pity, to remove your head."
Now she sat in her carriage stiff from cold, knowing that her father was dead. She opened her eyes and studied her hands now knowing how much of the blood would rest on her on. Katerina had escaped. She wondered if Klaus would tell her how he'd died, before he killed her.
She flinched as Klaus ripped open the carriage. There was a smear of blood on his mouth, but his eyes were blue again as he stepped inside. Sprawling across from her, he dominated the small space. Her pulse kicked as his fingers went to his cravat, and he unknotted it carelessly.
Underneath them, the carriage lurched forward.
"Did you kill her?"
Klaus smiled, tongue sliding up across the blood on his lips with a pleased hum. "I considered it. But she still has some use. For now."
Caroline's stomach knotted, as she absorbed his words.
"And my father?"
It was a strain, not to trace the line of his throat with her eyes. To not stare at the tantalizing glimpse of his chest. Klaus might've invited all sorts of whispers of impropriety by being in her room, but he'd always been fully clothed. This change, his carelessness with his dress, rattled her. Teeth set, she held the violence of his gaze and ignored her body's reaction to his dishabille.
"It's a pity," Klaus mused, dropping the ruined cloth against the carriage seat. "I'd have enjoyed butchering him myself, but sometimes one must delegate. Have you ever been betrayed by someone you love, Caroline? Felt the utter horror when the one you've shared your most intimate desires with turned against you?"
Her fingers pressed hard into her palms. "Is that not what you hoped I'd do with Katerina?"
His head tilted and his eyes burned against her skin until she felt exposed. There was no defense against at the way he peeled her flesh from bone. Caroline's mouth ran dry as his temper changed into something far more covetous. "And does it bother you, Caroline? That you crawled beneath her skin, picked away at her hopes and dreams, lured her as bait for a trap she should have blindly walked into?"
There was something almost menacing in his voice, a touch of what might have been jealousy she did not understand. "No."
A thoughtful glance from beneath his lashes. "No?"
Caroline took a careful breath, and lifted her chin. Maybe a better person would have regretted what she had planned for Katerina. Perhaps she should have. But she couldn't find any, as Klaus pinned her with his gaze. "No, I do not feel remorse for Katerina. She was not mine to regret."
Klaus arched a brow and leaned forward, close enough to touch, to smell. The red faded from his eyes, but it did nothing to muffle the intensity of his gaze. "And Genevieve? Is the witch yours?"
She froze as he picked up one of her fisted hands, lashes dark as his gaze lowered. Caroline swallowed hard, as he teased her fingers to open and began to lazily remove her glove. "I do not understand."
His gaze flicked to her face as her glove fell away, his thumb stroking across her chilled palm. "Would you have held her death against me?"
She stared at him in confusion, brows tucked together. "Why does that matter? You did not care of my opinion, when you removed her from the carriage."
His tongue swiped his along his lip. "I find myself most curious, Caroline. You courted Katerina with your friendship, but only look at me with apathy when I speak of her. Yet, Genevieve, who helped your father betray me, who your father hoped would keep you away from me, she momentarily earned your defense."
"I did not know my father's plan," Caroline said lowly.
He clucked his tongue. "Come now, love. You were not surprised, when I stopped the carriage. Tell me why?"
She compressed her lips, stared at him flatly as she pulled her hand free. "Why should I expect you to believe me?"
Klaus leaned back, and arched a brow while he considered her. His rage hadn't abated, but whatever reason had allowed him to force a deal from Genevieve remained just behind his eyes. There was no charm now, just deadly calculation.
"Did you betray me, Caroline?"
"No," she said bluntly, body stiff. "But I hardly expect you to believe me."
"No?" He replied, lashes shielding his eyes for a long moment. "You smell of soap, of anger and fear, a hint of arousal, but no deceit."
She blinked. "What?"
His lips curled slowly, just a hint of dimple, and that quickly, his temper shifted and what she read in his eyes had her pulse skipping. "Humans are terrible liars. They cannot conceal the skipping of their hearts, the stink of sweat. There are a thousand small ways your body betrays you every day, if only you had the senses to perceive them. But you, Caroline, your body does not speak of betrayal."
Embarrassment was hot in her cheeks, that he could read her body so easily when she didn't understand her own reactions. Stubbornly, she angled her chin. "How did Katerina escape?"
His eyes bled red, veins stark. "She tricked another vampire into giving her blood, and then killed herself."
Caroline opened her mouth and then closed it, swallowing. She wondered at the terror Katerina must have felt, to be pushed to suicide and the hope of vampirism to run. She wondered what it meant of herself, that she was angry that Katerina had escaped. That by saving her life, Katerina had left more than one body behind her.
She caught her lip between her teeth, studied the glitter of his gaze. "You believe my father aided her?"
"He warned Katerina of the ritual," Klaus said bluntly. "Confessed to his part quite readily, when given the chance. Your father may be resistant to being compelled, sweetheart, but those around him are not."
There was something vicious in his voice, eyes sharp and devouring, and she swallowed hard. Rage, and a hint of something more, something worse. Vulnerability turned men savage.
"You've left me nowhere to return too," Caroline said tightly, as she realized the extent of the slaughter he'd left behind. "If you do not believe I have betrayed you, what is the purpose of this?"
"I cannot allow loose ends," Klaus said easily, but his gaze never left her face. "Particularly now that I know the extent of your father's work. But first, tell me, what have you gleaned these past weeks? I want to know every thought that has flitted through your agile mind."
Caroline's fingers tightened, and she finally looked away. She knew he wasn't asking, that his words were a thinly veiled demand. Swallowing, she chose her words carefully. "My father hated you."
"Of course he did," Klaus murmured. "I had a… hand in arranging your parents marriage, after all. A blow, to such a man, to lose what I imagine he thought was his freedom. I believe it was made quite a lot worse when your mother bore him a girl."
Her head jerked around and she gaped at him. "What?"
"I needed bait," he said easily. "It was only a matter of time before the doppelganger made an appearance, and I needed someone who could slide inside her inner circle. Your line has been producing daughters for centuries. It was also an amusement to watch your father, he who had chosen to hunt the supernatural was made impotent by his wife. As long as her bloodline lived, he could not destroy what she was bound to. Witches are particular about their revenge, and your father had many enemies."
"Centuries?" she whispered. "You've breed us like horses to be bait, for centuries?"
"I've ensured that your family has prospered. You cannot believe your association with witches is a mere quirk," Klaus drawled, amused. "I admit, I miscalculated with your father. I did not expect him to be incapable of being compelled. That he had taught you the trick was an annoyance, but now I find it utterly intriguing. A mere girl, yet one who offers such unwavering loyalty, and I cannot compel it from you. Why the surprise, love? Did you imagine I did not grasp your character, all those hours we spent talking?
"No, you cannot compel me," she said finally, brows tucked together. He thought her loyal. He'd thought she'd betrayed him. He'd come to find answers while he was in a rage, and yet, he'd listened when she spoke… She caught herself as the carriage rocked roughly, the road clearly in some disarray.
"Where are we headed?"
"Katerina still has family," Klaus said softly, expression darkening with malevolence. "I am most interested to see what they have to say."
"I do not understand," she said slowly. "Her family?"
"Katerina will spend centuries regretting her choice," he murmured. "Did you imagine I would allow anyone connected to her by blood to live? That I will allow her a single moment to hope for safety?"
"Why?" Both of his brows arched as Klaus' head canted at her words. The monster watched her and her heart jumped into her throat. Licking her lips, she angled her chin, her fingers laced tightly together. "She merely wanted to live."
As Caroline did. As anyone, would.
"I can perhaps admire the gumption it has taken her to survive. But Katerina did not just choose to defy me, Caroline. She stole from me. I will not forgive her for either of those choices," those eyes narrowed and his lips curved. "I will torture her, for that defiance. I will haunt her every footstep, because for five hundred years, I have worked to break my curse and she thwarted me. But I will let her live the life she fought for because she might yet prove to be useful. You'll learn, sweetheart, that when you strike enough fear into a creature, they will do anything to break that yoke."
"And my family," Caroline said tightly, "Am I still under your yoke?"
Klaus laughed lowly, gaze dragging down her body before returning to her face. The blatant want should have turned her lungs to stone, but instead, the chill of the carriage was no longer quite so noticeable. He leaned forward again, caught her bare hand with his. Gaze holding hers, he lifted her cold fingers to the press of his mouth. "Of all the things I wish for you to be under, Caroline, a yoke is the least of them."
She jolted, at his words, the hint of wicked in his voice. There was intent behind his eyes. Stomach trembling, she fought to breathe. "But you do wish it."
"Perhaps not in the way you imagine," he murmured lowly. "But I digress. Your father's corpse, the remains of your household, will be discovered by nightfall. Your mother has no living family. You're now free of them."
The casual way he described her family dying did not frighten her, not the way it should have. She did not need empirically evidence of the horrors that Klaus inflicted on those who'd betrayed him, and what he'd suggested should've left her scrambling for her own escape. Instead, something twisted in her chest, a terrible tangle of hope and wariness.
"So I am," Caroline agreed, voice taut. "You've also conscripted the witch my father hoped would keep me safe. Was your intent to ruin me? Because you have managed it. Shall I live in the shadow of that for the rest of my life? Is that my punishment?"
"I do not wish to ruin you, Caroline," Klaus corrected. "I merely wish to offer you your freedom."
She froze.
"It is intriguing," he said thoughtfully, watching her from eyes that saw far too much. "The human idea of freedom. Such a curious code of morals and propriety, that in the end mean very little. You'll find, sweetheart, that such things easily fall away with vampirism. The world becomes yours to take."
"And if I say no?"
"Will you? You cannot tell me that you're satisfied with this life, your humanity," Klaus quiered.
Caroline swallowed at a second press of his mouth at her wrist, the rasp of his tongue. He made a soft noise he made at the taste of her that set her nerves alight. Her skin prickled, and she shuddered. "I won't be another vampire, living in fear of you."
He released her hand, and settled one palm on her knee. Her clothing did nothing to blunt the impact of his touch, and she shivered at the heat of him. "Good. I do not want your fear."
She shook her head. "I do not believe you."
Klaus made a thoughtful sound, his fingers skimming upwards and brushing a line nearly to her hip, before retreating. "No? Should I not reward your loyalty? Do you imagine I do not see the value in of it? That I am not fascinated by you?"
Caroline's toes curled in her slippers and heat pooled low at each careful, improper caress. Her breath hitched, as his eyes lowered to her parted lips, the hunger there stark. "I've chosen not to betray you, and I agreed to pay the debt my family owed you. That does not mean I am loyal to you, Klaus. That doesn't mean I will be."
"But you could be," he replied, voice like velvet. "I can give you many reasons, to choose me."
She froze at the flash of heat behind Klaus' gaze and the answering flicker in her veins. But she was no child, to be tempted by just her base desires. The problem was the bait he had chosen, this dangling offer of freedom and the chance to experience him, were far more effective that she wished to admit. Klaus watched her with knowing eyes, but he seemed willing to wait for her to speak.
"What happens if I accept your offer?" Caroline rasped, nerves roughening her tone.
"Well now, that depends on you," he said, the pit behind his eyes now wide open and devouring. "Your father's death will create ripples among my enemies, and I've no desire to linger in these lands."
There was something else there, a flash of that terrible rage and the hint of vulnerability she knew to be the real danger. But she held her tongue, certain that now was not the time to question him. Klaus continued, voice taking a coaxing tone.
"Once Katerina's family has been dealt with, then the possibilities are endless. Paris, perhaps? Rome? The world is open to us."
Caroline opened and closed her mouth, stunned by how casually he continued offered her what she wanted with such desperation. But everything had a price. "But only if I agree to becoming like you."
A touch of amusement lightened his eyes. "A vampire, yes. But not quite like me, love. Still, you cannot expect that I should believe that remaining human is what you wish, Caroline. Aging. Growing old, remaining trapped by human propriety? Is that what you want?"
Her teeth worried her lip, as she studied him. She couldn't remember the last time someone had asked her what she wanted. She knew there was a note of manipulation to it, Klaus was maneuvering her into giving him what he wanted. It struck her, that this rough coaxing lacked his usual charm, that his intensity was oddly genuine.
And what he asked of her was loyalty. Her loyalty. How exactly did eternity stretch that for this monster, a human girl's loyalty was something he thought of as precious?
She wanted the freedom he dangled.
Caroline could even admit privately that she wanted him, the way he looked at her, and that his careful courting touches had left her hungry for sensation. She was so unbelievably starved for the things he offered, but she forced herself to think.
Klaus had given away his nature those nights he'd plotted, and as mercurial as his moods could be, so did his interests swiftly change. He'd hold her to him only as long as his interest remained, and she'd no doubt he'd one day walk away. But would that be so bad? Vampirism would give her the tools she'd need to thrive.
The thundering in her chest settled. "I suppose that depends on you."
Laughter creased his eyes, the darkness banished by heat. "Does it?"
"I will not spend an eternity being bait for you to dangle," she said fiercely. "I am no one's chess piece, not any longer."
"No?" Klaus watched her from knowing eyes. "There is value in being useful."
"If I am useful, it will be because I choose to be," Caroline said. "You wanted to know how you become something I value, how to gain my loyalty? I am not a horse, to offer devotion indiscriminately. I am not a piece on your mental board, to be discarded as an easy sacrifice."
"I doubt something as simple as 'easy' will ever describe you," Klaus drawled. He leaned forward and caught her chin firmly between his fingers. "Do not betray me, Caroline. There would be no torture that I would not inflict, no horror I would not create, should you choose such a path. What I plan for Katerina will seem like a pleasurable existence in the face of it, do you understand?"
"I won't, as long as you do not betray me," she said firmly. For the things she choose to hold close, betrayal was not within her. Klaus was not hers, but she could promise him this and keep it.
"When the witch said I don't negotiate, she was correct," he murmured, eyes heavy lidded and glittering.
"If your intention was to merely bully me into vampirism," Caroline returned frostily. "You'd have already forced the change. If you did not intend to allow me to remain me, I'd just be another body left behind while you dealt with Katerina. Another blood price paid for my father's folly."
His smile was slow and terrible. "You'll make a magnificent vampire."
"Will I?" Caroline murmured, lashes shading her eyes. "And how will you kill me?"
She did not flinch away from the sudden darkening in his gaze, the hint of veins beneath his eyes. She startled as he moved to crouch before her, heat watching her through his lashes. His fingers curved along her calf, and Klaus deposited her foot on the firm muscle of his thigh. There were layers of skirts between them but Caroline suddenly felt intensely vulnerable.
"In a bed," Klaus said lowly, fingers curving delicately around her ankle, eyes dark and wanting. His thumb brushed along her stocking, and her mouth ran dry. "The bedding wrinkled and sweat damp, your body loose limbed and sated, my blood on your lips; yours on my tongue."
Caroline bit the curve of her mouth, toes pressing against his thigh. "That's very specific."
He smiled slowly, and her breath hitched as he slowly began to push her skirts towards her knees. "I've thought often of you, alone in that cold bed, as I took my leave each night. And I've wondered, did your husband merely do his duty or did he take the time to learn all of your most intimate secrets? Did he teach you any of the many pleasures that can be found with a clever partner?"
He paused, the length of her legs exposed to the cool air, his hand skimming up the lean line of her calf. Her stockings prevented him from touching skin, but everything inside her went hot and aware, anyway. "If you've no desire to share my bed, there are other ways to give you blood, of course."
She trembled, as his fingertips skimmed just above her stocking. There was a question in that touch, in his gaze. Carefully, Caroline reached out with her fingertips to brush the hint of veins beneath his eyes. His gaze were heavy lidded and dark, as she stroked the delicate skin. She wondered if they were nearing an inn, if he planned on stopping soon, because she wanted his hands on her skin.
"I want you to touch me."
A hint of triumph curved his mouth, and his words were a sensual warning. "I'll touch you sweetheart, until you cannot take anymore. But what I want from you doesn't end there. I'm a creature of blood, and I want a bite."
Her breathing hitched. "Where?"
He made a considering noise, and then his fingers smoothed along her inner thighs. She jolted, breath escaping in a rush. His thumb rubbed a slow rasp against her skin, and she shivered. "I want to bite you here."
Her mouth opened and shut, and his smile shifted to something that looked like greed. "No? Perhaps I can convince you."
Gathering her skirts, he pushed them higher. "Will you hold these for me?"
Trembling fingers wound two fistfuls of her petticoats. "You cannot mean to do this here."
His smile stretched across his full lips, and his gaze lowered to settle between her thighs. "Touch you? I intend to do more than that. I want to learn you, stroke you, until I know what makes you sweat, what causes your pretty lips to part as you moan for me. I want to know how your skin flushes before you come, the hazy blue of your eyes."
Klaus flashed dimples at her wide eyes, brushed his lips across the outside of her knee. "Then I want you on my cock."
She shuddered. This was a monster's greed laid bare with blunt words, and her skin felt too tight, an ache forming low in her belly. Her husband had only ever looked at her like a duty. Klaus watched her as if she was a sin. "And what if I have wants?"
His lips skimmed her knee. "Oh, I hope you do. I'd be delighted to teach you any sin your agile mind alights on."
She wondered just how many ways there were for a man and a woman to be together?
A soft tearing of cloth pulled at her attention, and then delicate fingertips skimmed along the wetness between her thighs. She gasped, biting down reflexively on her lip to muffle the sound. Klaus made a chiding noise, the slow stroke of his thumb turning her mind hazy.
"Now, now, Caroline. None of that."
"The driver will hear," she rasped, cheeks turning hot and pink.
An arched brow and his thumb slid higher, the slow circle scattering her wits as her hips arched into that perfect caress, fingers gripping her skirts to the point of ripping.
"Of course he will." Her embarrassed squeak didn't seem to deter him, and he continued to lightly stroke her. Klaus watched her squirm with covetous eyes, gaze riveted on her the way her muscles jumped and twitched. "Have you ever come like this? With someone's fingers other than your own?"
Caroline shook her head. It hadn't been until she'd spent several hours with Katerina that she'd realized that women could touch themselves. The brazen girl had not only had whispered sordid tales about her lover, but she'd seemed to find more satisfaction from her time with a man than Caroline could remember in those few short months she'd been married. She'd been certain Katerina had said several things just see who would repeat them, but they'd never quite left Caroline's mind.
"Show me how," she rasped.
Klaus's eyes went impossibly darker. "I want you to watch, Caroline. Tonight, when you're naked on our bedding, we'll see how your much that clever brain of yours remembers, hmm?"
Another rush of heat, at the idea of touching herself while Klaus watched. That he wanted to see. She'd a single moment to wonder if he'd be willing to return the favor, before he touched her with intent. Parting her with his thumb, he swept upwards collecting her wetness, and pressed his slick thumb higher than before. Her toes pressed sharply against his thigh, her abdomen drawing tight, as he pressed against her. Her breath caught in hitching breaths, her early concern with being heard lost. It was a struggle, to keep her eyes on each movement, and she protested when he paused was loud.
"I'll keep my promise," he said roughly, and she twisted her fingers tightly into her skirt as he slid one finger inside her. A second stretched her presently, and she garbled his name as he slowly slid them out, and thrust carefully back inside her. Sweat began to beat at her temples and spine, hips helplessly chasing his fingers and her elusive release.
"Klaus," she pleaded hoarsely, trembling as she rode the edge of an orgasm. "I'm so close."
Klaus dipped his head, scruff a rasp against her skin, and on the next pass of his thumb, his fangs dug into her skin. Caroline shouted, the unexpected pain a shocking counterpoint that pitched her into a wave of bliss. She had no conscious memory of releasing her skirts and gripping his hair, but as she came her fingers were tangled tightly in his curls.
Caroline stared, chest heaving, as Klaus licked the bite wound until the bleeding stopped, a dark bruise already forming. Then, gaze lifted to her face, he licked the fingers that had been buried inside her clean as well. Her lips parted on a sharp inhale, and his tongue snaked out as if savouring her.
Smile edging into something feral, with absolutely no shame, Klaus reached for the fastenings on his trousers. Interested stirred in her belly as she watched him move, until the hard length of his cock sprung free. Tongue dragging across her lips, Caroline caught his eyes.
"When do I get to touch you?"
"Later," Klaus said, voice low and raspy. "I'll let you touch me once I've satisfied a number of fantasies."
Caroline straightened, her skirts helplessly crushed, her breasts heaving in her bodice, and she narrowed her eyes. "Let me?"
A startled laugh, and then he hooked her beneath her thighs and lifted her as easily as he'd moved Genevieve. Her hands landed on his shoulders as her knees bracketed his narrow hips. She drew breath to scold him, the wood beneath her knees uncomfortable, but the hard edge of his cock against her stilled her words.
This close, their breaths mingled, the dark blue around his pupil scalding. His lips brushed hers with each breath, and it was almost as intimate as the way his cock pressed slowly inside her. His mouth pressed hard and quick against hers, and his hands encouraged her to lean more of her weight against him. The slightest shift of her hips pushed him deeper, and she whimpered, nails digging into his neck.
"Perhaps we'll negotiate," Klaus rasped against her mouth once he seated fully inside her. His hand insinuated between their bodies, lightly rubbing where he'd spent so much time earlier. She jolted, clenching down, and Klaus's groan matched her whimper.
Curling one arm around his shoulder for balance, Caroline was helpless to stop herself from rocking against him. It was better if she rolled her hips just enough to slide up and down his length. Each movement only emphasized how full she was and she felt a little hazy as the pleasure built.
"Negotiate?" She stammered and his mouth curved against hers before he rolled his hips into her next downward movement. Her fingers dig into his scalp, fighters gripping his hair, and he encouraged the bite of pain of another snap of his hip. A whine escaped her, her chin tilted back as she let herself feel.
"Hmm," Klaus hummed as he pressed his mouth to her jaw, lips and tongue lingering against the line of her throat. "You can ride me like this, but I want you naked. I want to see suck your nipples, cup your arse as you chase your orgasm."
The crude words nearly pushed her over and another rough pinch did. She'd barely had time to slow her trembling when he'd picked them both up, his cock still achingly hard, and pressed her hands against the seat. Klaus flipped her skirts out of his way, spread her thighs and thrust back inside her.
Caroline wasn't certain she could've muffled her cries if she'd wanted to. He gave her no chance to adjust to the position, but set a firm, nearly rough pace that had her voice rising in pitch with each thrust. It didn't take her long to near a third orgasm, her knees and thighs shaking, but Klaus kept her firmly in his grip. Clawing at her seat, she screamed as she came, body bowed sharply. A moment later, she felt him finish with her.
Klaus kept her from becoming a heap on the floor, his arm banded around her waist as she tried to find her knees. A few moments later, he'd tucked his cock back inside his pants, and her skirts were mostly straightened. Her thighs were sticky, nipples painfully tight. He settled next to her, and she welcomed the steadiness he brought, since she wasn't certain she wouldn't slip off the bench if the carriage jolted.
Still trying to catch her breath, she watched Klaus from dazed eyes. "How far did you say we had to go?"
"Bulgaria," Klaus said. His smile was slow and tempting, fingers skimming the base of her throat before slowly moving lower. "Tonight we'll rest at an inn, but it is a few hours away yet."
She shivered, lashes heavy. "Hours?"
His fingers glided down her sternum before tracing the curve of her breast. "Hmmm, yes. I don't imagine we'll be bored, if we are limited in positions. But perhaps we'll explore those a bit more after you've rested a bit, hmm?"
Even as her nipple tightened into hard little peak beneath his touch, her lashes drifted closed. Klaus' shoulder was solid beneath her cheek, and the motion of the carriage lulled her exhausted body even further. The last sensation she remembered was Klaus' fingers tangling in her hair.