Author's note: This is a sequel to chapter 3 in this series (and yes, I'm starting work on the next part!) Historical Klaroline AU. It began with a betrothal gift. But fate can be cruel. Fortunately, Klaus and Caroline are far too obstinate to allow a curse to stop their love.

Warning: Violence. Angst. But some more Klaroline sexytimes to make it up to you.


"Because no one has more thirst for earth, for blood, and for ferocious sexuality than the creatures who inhabit cold mirrors"
― Alejandra Pizarnik


Mystic Falls, 10th century

As soon as he saw the spun fluff of white sumac blooms, Klaus understood. Not everything, of course, his mother was far too devious to give away all of her secrets. Sumac brought bad luck. Angelica root, bindweed, and devil's cherry were fanned out on the stone altar. Not to mention the corpse of the milkmaid, Tatia, was freshly bled.

It would be a potent curse.

Caroline was bound by woven blackthorn branches, rivulets of blood painting her arms crimson as she struggled uselessly against Esther's power. But his love did not weep. She stared down the dark pit behind his mother's cold gaze, clearly taking pride in hurling crude epithets — many he'd only ever heard from the thralls who worked the land.

It was an honor to witness Caroline's spiteful tongue.

But it only served to mask her pain. Fear warred with torment in her blue gaze as she threw her small frame against the unrelenting bonds of blackthorn. And Klaus was little more than an indignant rooster as he squawked and bellowed threats at his mother from underneath the relentless weight of her power. Worthless creature, he condemned himself. Too weak to save your woman.

Esther lowered her crimson hood, thin lips twisting into a cruel grin as she completed the opening rites of the blót, the sacrificial ceremony. A bitter wind chapped their skin, scoring it with salt from the far-flung sea cradling the Old Country. She chanted in the tongue of the otherworld, her gnashing teeth and violent syllables tearing the air.

Klaus let out a furious bellow as Esther painted blooded runes upon Caroline's flesh, a hint of their dark purpose making him tremble. The death rune. The rune of sudden change. Klaus and Caroline exchanged one final, fearful glance as Esther cackled maniacally, iron dagger in hand. In the scant space betwixt Esther raising that damnable blade and the ritual's end, Klaus fought to hold Caroline's gaze, committing to memory the soft planes of her face and fluttering breaths. Their love would not be undone.

Esther ruthlessly plunged the dagger into Caroline's heart. The wave of blood was relentless, soaking everything in its wake while his love became a hollow shell of jagged movement. But her lone, piercing cry held the promise of vengeance.

Klaus was still screaming when Esther picked up the mirror box, her empty gaze filled with an even darker purpose.


England, 1492

It was an antique of many curiosities, and over the centuries, it had become a most coveted prize despite its dark reputation. Death seemed to stalk the mirror box. It never remained in one's possession for long before tragedy would strike. Villagers would shake their heads grimly whenever a neighbor would take their life in such a gruesome manner. And yet, they'd clutch their cloaks a bit tighter, not understanding the sudden urge to mutter prayers whenever they caught sight of the odd burn marks. Perhaps madness was catching, they'd foolishly reason on the occasions when entire families would be found in this dark manner.

Klaus polished the collection of brass candelabras, biting back the familiar rage that always lingered just below the surface. His mother made monsters. He'd desired naught but vengeance against Esther, but begrudgingly recognized her power was too great. So, he'd bided his time, returning to their village to play the part of dutiful son. It had been remarkably easy — for all Esther's power, she still could be blinded by false flattery. He'd been astounded by how quickly fate handed him the perfect opportunity to exact his revenge. His youngest brother had been killed and in a rare moment of foolishness, Esther had used her power to transform her children into nightmare creatures.

With a ferocious snarl, he tossed a gold filigreed candlestick at the back wall of his antiques shop, the soft metal spreading wide over the rough brick as though it had melted. The most powerful creature to walk the earth and still powerless to save his love.

Once Esther's spell had imbued him with new power, plus an unexpected power from a surprise revelation about his ancestry, Klaus had set upon Esther with fang and claw, the ritual unexpectedly weakening her. Her bitter blood had momentarily soothed his savage beast, but the deep ache in his chest would not be denied. Caroline was still dead. In his despair, he'd unleashed such violence upon his homeland that even his siblings with their freshly unleashed monsters could not abide. Betrayed and abandoned, Klaus had collapsed before the crumbling remains of Esther's altar, a plaintive wail tearing his throat at the sight of the mirror box.

But then his world changed again.

"Stop it, Klaus. Brooding on the past serves no purpose," Caroline suddenly told him, startling him from his memories. At his quizzical brow, she cocked her head to the side, lightly scoffing, "You always wear that particular scowl when you recall those dark days of our village." She glided gracefully across the wooden floor, possessing the carriage of a warrior queen despite the tattered, blood-soaked garments she'd died in. "I felt your presence and called out." Blue eyes became black with malice as she swore, "No filthy curse of Esther's could stop me from returning to you."

"But you didn't return to me," he retorted with more bite than he'd intended. Narrowing her gaze at his ill-reasoned words, Caroline's form jerked away from him and started to fade. He reached for her, fingers passing through the tendrils of mist as he protested, "Wait! I only meant that my mother's curse stripped away your mortal flesh and unmade you into a wraith." With a heavy heart, he reminded her, "We've spent centuries searching for the one who can restore all that you've lost."

Caroline reappeared, summoning the strength to touch him with her ghostly form, "Come now, Klaus. Not all of our time together has been drudgery. The more I feed, the stronger I become for our pleasant diversions." Her whisper danced upon his ear as she confessed, "Every time you ensure the mirror box receives a new owner, I return to you well-nourished so that you may sate my other needs."

"Would that you could feast upon me, my love," Klaus growled, her touch igniting his passion. How he craved to carry her mark, his covetous monster irrationally jealous of her victims. He often fancied that he too was driven mad by her presence and embrace it wholeheartedly with every frenzied feeding.

Caroline playfully wrapped one of his dirty blonde curls about her finger, yanking sharply until his fangs unsheathed. "I feast in other ways quite regularly," nipping at his neck, she purred, "there's much to be said for the hearty constitution of an Original."

Klaus felt his cock harden at her brash ways, pleased that the centuries'-old curse only served to sharpen her appetites but did not dim the fire that he'd been drawn to when they were mortal. With a possessive growl, he tumbled her to the enormous bed that commanded attention from the center of the room, its richly embroidered tapestries trimmed in gold and crimson silk. Upon the fine linen sheets, her pale skin shimmered, and her power sparked enough to dissolve the illusion of clothing.

He traced his fangs along her collarbone, pressing the sharp points down despite the absence of blood. Her flesh was firm to the touch, and that was what mattered. She was here, with him, no matter her cruel tether to the mirror box. He parted her thighs, fingers toying with the delicate folds as she hummed in delight. Pressing just the tip of a finger to her opening, he tickled the flesh until she let out a frustrated groan.

"More, pet?"

She mockingly glared, an unearthly glow to her gaze while undulating her hips. "You're mine, Klaus. Give of yourself freely or I'll take it just the same."

"Just as you are mine," he growled, pushing two fingers inside as he fondly reminded her, "ever since that day at the river. I'd happened upon you freshly bathed, curious hands wandering about your delectable form. How you blushed so prettily when I humbly offered assistance."

Caroline laughed, "As though your inexperience was any less on display with your reddened cheeks, or the way your hands trembled and voice cracked?" With a seductive smile, she revealed, "But it was quite delicious all the same."

Minx. That fiery gaze had conveyed her displeasure at being so rudely interrupted at the river, and he'd hastily removed his tunic, unsure and awkward, but desire making him a hopeful fool. Whatever she'd seen had been enough and she rose to her knees, beckoning him with one hand.

She'd giggled at how he'd tripped in his eagerness to perch beside her, taking his hand and drawing it to her breasts. He'd been fascinated by how her nipples had roughened to sharp peaks, delicately plucking at them with his fingers as she softly moaned.

Soon, her palm was at the rigid outline of his aching cock, rubbing playful circles. When she reached inside to fondle his cock, his flesh twitched in her palm, and as soon as she'd drawn him from his trousers, he let out a guttural moan. He was fit to burst and the only warning he gave was a harsh intake of breath before spilling in her hand.

Face ablaze with shame, Klaus had been shocked by Caroline smearing his seed across her breasts, teasing, "You've spoiled my bath."

Chuckling at her impish ways, he'd bent his curly head to her breasts, lapping at her breasts and savoring his scent upon her flesh.

The carnal memory had spurred his movements, slipping another finger inside her as she writhed on the bed. Klaus took particular delight in pulling soft little gasps from Caroline, tormenting her as deliciously as she tormented him. When he removed his hand, his greedy girl snarled and leapt upon him, her power nearly matching the strength of an Original. She straddled his waist, grinding into him with a ruthless determination as she shredded his velvet doublet, embroidered tunic and breeches.

He grasped Caroline's thighs and seated her on his cock, both of them sighing with pleasure at the sensation. His thrusts were wild and the feel of her squeezing his cock sent him reeling. She screamed his name, gracefully arching her back as she rode him into the mattress. His beast roared its claim, rolling them over until her hands and knees were planted. A feast prepared just for him.

Klaus spread the pale globes of her ass, pushing inside once more to deliver the powerful strokes they both craved. She pushed back against him with a wanton cry, their rut reaching a feverish tempo. As she shuddered in ecstasy, Klaus flexed his hips and sought his own release with a triumphant groan.

As he lay beside Caroline on the feather-soft bed, tracing swirling patterns on her bare flesh, a feral gleam flashed in his gaze and he bent his head to her mound, intent on winding her up once more.

"I can't," she whispered weakly, curling in on herself as her body became mist and vapor again. "It's been too long since I've fed," she said regretfully, the sorrow on her lovely face bleeding into stark hunger.

Selfish bastard, Klaus cursed himself as he sat up quickly to gaze upon Caroline with concern. The mirror box had been in his possession too long; he despised parting with Caroline, but knew it to be a necessary evil — she had to feed. "I'll fetch you someone in a moment, my love." With an encouraging smile, he added, "But first, I have glad tidings to share; I've found Tatia's doppelganger."

After all this time, soon Caroline would break the curse.