Bonnie had not only lost her mind, she'd also lost her state of being to the peach textured like surface of Marcel's tongue. To the sweet citrusy taste of his mouth. The way his lips felt pressed against hers incinerated her chill. For the love of Mr. Marcus, he was a five star X-rated kisser. After only a few minutes of oral play with him, she wanted nothing more than to snatch off all of her clothing and offer her fire god something he could feel. Have motherfucking mercy!
Wide of the mark was now her position. Marcel was Niklaus' son for fucks sake, not to mention Rebekah's ex. Not one fraction of what she'd found herself wrapped up in with him was right. But she couldn't stop herself from deliberately burning with him in their wrong. Every inch of his fiery ass set every piece and part of her to blaze. If only she knew where he put the brakes. Hell, if only she cared.
At knee knocking speed, he whisked them through the forest. Thorny switches slashed at her cheeks, while the wind whipped at her hair. She tightened her arms and locked her legs around him and prayed like shit he didn't run them into a tree. Surprisingly, however, he navigated the landscape like a Mystic Falls lifer.
In no time, he had her pinned to his front door slow grinding into her candy shop as he fumbled to find the right key. After several failed attempts of jamming the wrong one into the lock he growled, and then twisted the knob right off the door. She heard the metal handle clatter to the porch as he zipped them inside.
Moments later her back met the velvet of an area rug. The downy material caressed her lower back and thighs. She squirmed her hips a little from side to side to alleviate the lust beating at her core like a prize fighter hell twisted on defending his title.
Marcel climbed over and caged her in with flaming rock hard appendages. Fiery brilliance met her gaze as she once again attempted to penetrate the blazing inferno that made up his face. She reached up and placed her hand where she assumed his cheek would be. Blazing tendrils wrapped themselves around her fingers and wrists. Low pulses of electric bliss pierced the pads of her digits, shot through her system and slammed in to her sorcery.
The collision sparked a melting pot of rapturous sensations and blitzed her ass in under five seconds. She rode the high in a moaning and twisting state of crazy. Two and a half seconds before she crashed his mouth rediscovered hers, while his hands moved faster than her senses could track to remove her clothes.
"Mm, Little Witch," he murmured as his fingers traced the outline of her breast and nipples through her bra. "Your person is a monument of inspiration to my inventive drive. Once I commit every centimeter of your inimitable form to memory," he shoved the undergarment upwards to free her breasts, "I'll immortalize you on canvas and all will admire your radiance for ages to come."
Wet heat covered the nipple of her left breast as his fingers firmly tweaked the one on the right. His teasing manipulations, motivated her lower half to buck upwards in search of friction. Fuckstration rocked her shit when her thrust met air instead of the awesome bulge in his pants. He laughed and the sound only served to piss her off.
"Why're you playing with me?" She questioned. Her voice met her ears in a breathy whisper. "You want me to beg…I w-won't…not for you."
"Oh you'll beg, little witch," he said as he pressed kisses down her abdomen. "Not only will you beg, you'll do so even after your vocal chords are no longer competent in the art of producing sound."
Seconds later her pants were torn from her body. When he began nipping at her upper thighs, her teeth sank into her bottom lip to suppress the Benedict Arnolds of moans. "Marcel, sto…oh…"
His mouth introduced itself to her pearl and sucked it hello through the lace of her panties. The concept of forming words slipped way beyond her grasp of functionality. She grabbed his head with the full intention of slowing his roll, but as the suction on her clit increased she used her grip to bring his face closer and direct how he moved.
"Would you like me to remove your unmentionables?" He questioned in a tone which served up so much fake innocence she thought his tongue would turn green on the spot. He tsked. "After all, they're soaking wet. Why, you may very well catch your death in these, however on second deliberation, you most assuredly will die multiple deaths out of them. The choice is ever yours, little witch."
"T-take them off," she stammered, while stroking the fade line of his haircut at the back of his head as encouragement.
He pressed another kiss to her upper thigh. "Wise decision indeed," he said, before ripping her underwear from her body as if it was made of nothing more than paper napkins and dental floss. His sharp intake of breath banged her ears nice and slow. She came up on her elbows to see what all the-show stopping-fuss was about and was met with the sight of the sun about to go down on her. "A monument to inspiration indeed," he murmured.
She lay back on the area rug and stared up at the large wooden beams that supported the high ceilings of the cottage. Maybe she should stop them from going any further. Wouldn't being with him be like cheating on her significant others? Yeah, she had to put an end to—holy stars and stripes! The soft muscle of his oral cavity slipped between her Pop Rocker's lips to give her chart topper a sinuous tongue kiss.
After a few hair pulling licks and swirls, all of her good intentions led her straight to the gates of hell. She was so lost. Especially when he slipped two fingers inside of her. Right then and there she decided to take the long way down. Consequences could suck a dick. Just not his. She planned to put in the work on that job later.
Her magic and his fervent essence smashed together in a sensual fusion. The big bang clash nearly caused her to bite her tongue in half. The logs in the fireplace to the left of them, spontaneously combusted. The ceiling fan above spun to life on high. A deliciously throbbing tension kicked off in her lower abdomen and thoroughly gorged itself on her fading inhibitions until all that remained in its place was a swirling mess of wanton madness. The explosive discharge resonated to lick the juddering inners walls of her off the leash good girl who'd taken a shit ton of pleasure in going—Michael Jackson—bad.
At that point she didn't know if she was coming or cumming. Least not until shit met the notorious fan, and Marcel's plunging fingers discovered the location of her OM…G-spot. After that, things went all the way live! An orgasm the size of Canada snatched her mental and physical in a choke hold. Paroxysmal convulsions popped and locked her frame as nonsensical gibberish took possession of her tongue. There was no shitty way she could literally survive this fall. He ensured as much when his mouth and fingers continued to suckle, stroke, and thrust her up another sky scraping climax.
Soon all she could do was hold on as she died several times screaming. When he finally let her touch the ground again she was a quivering confused muddle of broken judgements and incomprehensible phrases. She thought Kol's mouth and lip service played with her mind, but Marcel's oral play snatched her entire damn brain. He'd done her so ridiculously wrong every muscle in her body trembled at even the idea of moving. Hell, she could barely feel her legs! Not to mention, exhaustion rode her better than Rebekah. Facts, she was working harder than Kanye West's PR team to keep her eyes open. What the original fuck had he done to her?!
"What th-th…the-,"
"Shh, I've got you, love…I've got you." Marcel licked, nipped, and kissed his way back up her body until he reached her earlobe. There, he spent several seconds nibbling and suckling the sensitive skin. Once he released her lobe he whispered, "I want nothing more than you to take me in your mouth as I drain your femoral artery, but alas, I'm in possession of another's person and it wouldn't bode well to establish a blood bond between you and my adoptive son. Moreover, your enchanted elixir would most assuredly turn him ripper and I can only see to so many issues at a time."
She forced her way through a thick fog of lethargy to make sense of his words. "W-what did-,"
"Shh…rest, love." His soothing words persuaded her to do as he said. So she allowed her lids to close. Seconds after which, he lifted her into his arms. "I'll explain all when you awake."
"Drive faster," Greta Martin demanded.
"Sorry, Ms. Martin. I'm going as fast as the roads will allow. Any faster, and I'll lose control of the vehicle," the driver said, while glancing at her in the rearview mirror. "'Sides, I can barely see anything through all of this rain."
This wouldn't track. They'd be overran in a matter of minutes. She needed to find a place she could safeguard while she performed the spell to get Klaus back in his body. "There should be something coming up on the right, a little ways back off the road. Pull in there." She reached over the seat to place her hand on Klaus' coffin.
Greta glanced out the rear window of the SUV. She didn't see anyone following them, but her enhanced sorcery could sense the overpowering mystical energy of Bennett Magic. It thickened the air and agitated her witch given instincts. Not only was Lucy close, but she also perceived the unnatural icy calm of the undead. The bitch had a vampire with her and by the foreboding impression that weighed on her, the vamp was at least a half century old. How the hell had Lucy caught up with her so damn fast?
For the past forty-eight hours she'd travelled with only minimal stops along the way. A few miles outside of Mystic Falls, she'd begun to sense Lucy and the feeling only seemed to gain on her. The flash of car lights in the distance sliced through the unending darkness and yanked her heartbeat out of rhythm. A wave of magic slammed into the back of the truck. The rear window exploded. She buried her face in her hands as jagged shards of glass embedded itself into her forearms and shattered against Klaus' coffin.
"What the hell! Ms. Martin are you okay?" The SUV began to slow.
"I'm fine. Don't slow down," she yelled, while scanning the country side for anywhere to take shelter. Up ahead a rundown shed came into view. "There's a barn coming up on the right. Drive into it without stopping."
"What? But it's not open," The driver chanced a glance at her over his shoulder.
"I don't give a shit. Just fucking drive into, Dacklin!"
Another wave of magic rocked the truck. It zig-zagged from side to side before finally righting. When he regained control of the SUV, he turned off onto the dirt road leading to the barn. The dark sedan pursuing them followed suit. Now the trailing car was close enough for her to see the outline of the driver and passenger. She had the strong urge to spark there asses with a hellified hex, but she curbed the desire. She had to conserve her magic. She'd need every last drop of her sorcery to get Klaus back in his body.
"Hang on, Ms. Martin!" Dacklin yelled.
It was the last thing Greta heard before the car crashed into the barn.
Once again Bonnie found herself back in the forest on what appeared to be a moonless night. Yet who the hell could tell what was in the sky with the over explosion of leaves bursting from the trees. If not for the fire burning in the distance her vision would've been no better than Stevie Wonder's. Who the hell did Marcel Gerrard think he was, leaving her in the middle of Mystic fucking woods? She should get Kol to kick his ass! That'll teach him not to drown a girl in O's until she passed out, and then stashing her under a tree to avoid the whole—don't call me, I'll call you—tango. The shit wad!
About a few hundred feet from the fire she heard a familiar voice and felt the intense pull of what she had come to know as magical vibrations. "Why am I the one to be made answerable? It was unbeknownst to me the witch was even in my charge, Elijah." Kol Mikaelson. Think of the devil and he will show you his tail.
She opened her mouth to call out to him, but snapped it shut when she stepped from the brush. Elijah and Kol stood in front of a burning tree, flanking the older witch Niklaus referred to as Ayana. Her heart dropped to her ankle as she stopped breathing for a full five seconds. She was back. How long had it been this time? Minutes, hours, or years?
As she approached Kol and Elijah continued to bicker. Ayana, however, turned to straight face the hell out of her before extending her hand. "Come, let us recite the spell."
The Mikaelson brothers stopped tongue slashing each other when Ayana spoke. Two matching sets of brown eyes swung to her. Both of their faces held interest, but no real recognition.
Not sure of what else to do, she nodded to them, and then placed her hand in Ayana's. "How long has it been?"
"Only a turn of the sands." Whatever the hell that meant. The elder witch gave her hand a squeeze. "You are garbed in a different manner than afore. Has it been many risings since you were here last?"
She looked down and sure as hairy asses she wore an old school potato sack that fell down to her ankles—minus underwear. This time instead of it being faded blue, the itchy fabric was moss green. She scratched at her thighs through the material as she turned to consider the blazing white oak tree.
"If you're referring to days, then it's been nearly three." Something throbbed and tugged at the very center of her. Her heart began to pummel her rib cage. Chaotic notions chipped peace from her mind. She fisted her hands and allowed her fingernails to bite into her palms. Her glare left the tree and flicked to the direction of the pull. She shuffled her feet to assuage the need to move. "I have to see Niklaus."
"Soon," Ayana said. When her voice gained gravity, Bonnie reluctantly let her gaze wander back to her. "Firstly, we must see to his well-being. To all of their well-beings. Destroying the tree will safeguard their risings to come."
Bonnie's stare leapt to Kol and Elijah who in turn regarded her with troubled eyes and…fear? Their anxiety slammed brakes on her spinning world. In all her time of knowing the Mikaelsons, she'd never seen any of them afraid. The emotion looked out of place on their near perfect faces. The crushing urge to go and reassure them things would be fine appealed to every muscle in her body. And had it not been for their closed off demeanors, she would've done just that. Instead, she returned her gaze to Ayana.
"My magic is iffy at best. Hell, I barely even know how to light a candle, so I'm not sure how much help I'd be with flaming an entire tree." Bonnie decided to put everything ironically on wood. She didn't need them thinking of her as some kind of super witch. "I don't know any spells and Mrs. Mikaelson only just started teaching me Latin."
Ayana nodded as she gave her hand another squeeze. Dark mystical eyes bore into hers. "Worry not, I only need to channel your sorcery as I recite the spell."
"What do I have to do?"
"Concentrate." With that said, Ayana grabbed her other hand. "Unencumber your mind. Sense your magic. Allow it to course through your person unchecked and flow liberally from you."
Bonnie closed her eyes and focused on the mystical energy whipping through her veins and arteries. She let go of the mental leash she used to keep it in check. Once freed, her magic surged to the surface and shot to pool in her hands.
Ayana gasped. "You must be the end of my line. Your sorcery is unmatched."
Bonnie opened her eyes in time to see Ayana close hers. The elder witch began to chant in Latin. The flames on the white oak glowed sky blue, before evolving into an aquamarine hue. Tiny gold electrical whips arced randomly through the vibrant firestorm of transparent blue.
"The fire matches her aura," she heard Kol whisper.
The awe in his tone snatched her gaze to his. She allowed her eyes a chance to explore her beautiful monster. Aside from his now shoulder length sable tresses and country dumb attire, he looked exactly the same; save his mouthwatering browns. Somehow, they appeared younger and less jaded, but still bold as shit. His stare crept over her face in a—I've got time—fashion and without a blush of shame. As always he jacked up the heat in her body to hell fire temperatures. Damn he was a habit that she'd rather blow her brains out than quit.
"There, our period of labor here is done." Ayana released her hands, and then turned to consider the aquamarine blaze incinerating the tree. After a moment her gaze recaptured Bonnie's. "Come, we should return to the Mikaelsons' land to see how Niklaus fares."
As Bonnie moved to follow Ayana, Kol fell into step with her. "So you are the fabled 'little witch' Niklaus has sought for nigh sixteen summers."
"Sixteen summers for him, only days for me," she corrected, while resisting the impulse to take his hand.
"Does he speak falsely when he boasts of you being from an impending summer, then?" He questioned as the back of his hand grazed hers. The answering pulse that surged through her provoked every short hair on her body to uncurl.
She glanced at him from the outer cut of her eye. "Nope. He speak facts. I'm from the year 2009 or as Niklaus would say nine and two thousand."
Kol's eyes almost leaped from their damned sockets. Elijah slid into position on her other side, and inserted himself into the conversation. "I have encountered you afore."
Her stomach committed to winning the gold for flips-flops and somersaults at the implication that Elijah just may feel their connection. On a higher level, could he somehow know her? "Yeah, you have."
"If I'm not in error, Tatia and I came upon you and Niklaus engaged in a rather unseemly tryst two summers passed," he said.
"Busted." She exhaled her disappointment. "Yep, that was me."
Elijah inclined his head as he took her arm to help her over a few stones on the path. As soon as his hand made contact her magic hurtled to the elbow he cradled in his palm and expelled a jolt which jarred her to the gristle. His hand fell away as a groan escaped his wide open mouth.
"Sorry, Elijah. My magic always gets a little off the leash when you're near." She gave him a sideways glance. "For what it's worth, though, you love that shit."
He stumbled. "I beseech your pardon?"
"Oh away with you, Elijah." Kol attempted to shoo him with a wave of the hand. He then returned his stare to her. "He's a slave to propriety and openly rebuffs brazen behavior in maidens. He did damsels a great favor when he wed Tatia last spring." The fuck? She damn near broke her neck attempting to check Elijah's finger for a ring. "I for one find your speech to be quite engaging, little witch."
"Call me Bonnie, Toots. Only Niklaus calls me little witch." Her caution slipped and before she could check herself she playfully bumped his hip with hers. She hadn't realized what she'd done until Ayana's severe expression checked her.
After her misstep, they continued on in silence. During which time Bonnie tried harder than a pimp in a nunnery to censor herself. Where the hell was her swear jar when she needed the dame thing? Probably somewhere in the twenty-first century running the fuck over. When they made it to the clearing the sounds of Niklaus' pissed off bellows greeted them.
"You've ruined me you, duplicitous bitch!"
"Niklaus, please!" Esther pleaded. "You must hear me."
Ayana turned to wave her hand at Elijah and Kol. "Hurry to your mother's aid."
The brothers raced ahead, leaving them to jog behind at a much slower human pace. By the time they entered the tiny hut, Niklaus had Esther's back pinned to his chest, while a clawed hand rested at her throat. Elijah stood a few paces away from them, pleading with hands raised and palms out. While Kol looked on with a cold clinical indifference.
Bonnie pushed her way further into the hut as she had an attack of the bubble guts. She was literally on the verge of being scared shitless. Over the past few weeks without noticing Esther had come to mean more than nothing to her. The thought of losing her upset her magic to its foundation.
"Niklaus," she slipped between Elijah and Kol to stand only a foot or so away from him.
"Little w-witch," he sputtered. "I thought…"
"What the fuck are you doing? She's your mom." She tore her stretch wide stare from Esther's tear drenched face to look at him. Wild eyes drilled into hers while flashes of his vampire nature compromised his mask of humanity. "Do you know what kind of fucking animal kills their mother?"
"Me!" He growled. "I am the monster she has fashioned me into being."
Taking a step closer, she shook her head. "No matter who or what you think you are now, you have to believe me when I say you're not that monster, Niklaus."
"But you cannot fathom what she has done." His voice left his mouth fractured under the weight of a shit ton of hurt and betrayal.
The tears that glinted his eyes like polished jewels, broke the most guarded part of her. "She saved your life, Niklaus. Besides, I would've did the same damn thing if your fuck wad of a father had hit me with those choices."
"He's not my father!" He yelled as his nails bit into Esther's neck. Blood pooled to the surface and submerged the tips of his fingernails in the deep red fluid. "In some sense I believe he knew. My shifting into a wolf merely confirmed his doubts." A tear trickled from one of his eyes. "He regarded me with such contempt. Beat me for the most mundane offenses. All because of her lies!"
"Those lies were necessary, Niklaus." Esther rasped. "He would have abandoned you to the elements had he discovered the truth of your parentage. I could not allow such a thing to occur. I did what I must, just as I did this moon rise."
"You crippled me!"
"She protected you!" Bonnie yelled, drawing his attention back to her. "And again, I would've done the same fucking thing!"
His eyes bulged. "You would see me hobbled?" Reignited fury completely singed away his tears along with his human façade. Veins and fangs corrupted his godly beauty. "Why?!" He roared.
"Because I'd rather have half of you than fucking none of you!" She screamed back, taking another step forward. "And there's still a chance to fix this, but if you kill her, then there's no fixing anything."
Placing a palm to his face, Bonnie cupped his cheek. Niklaus' features gradually reclaimed its humanity. Reluctantly, he removed his hand from Esther's neck. Once she was out of danger, Elijah zipped forth to pull her to safety. Bonnie then stepped into the spot his mother vacated, and wrapped herself around him.
Amber, sandalwood and a smidge of wildness seduced her nostrils. The press of his hard body against hers attempted to slay her focus, but with all the fuckery unfolding she managed to push her—he can get it—thoughts to the back of her mind. Instead, she welcomed the weight of his arms as they encircled her and cuddled her closer.
"Where has Finn, Rebekah, and Henrik displaced themselves?" Ayana questioned.
"I sent them to the village to gather provisions for travel," Esther said, her voice still a bit hoarse. "Mikael will not burn indefinitely, and when his flames fade we would do well to already be at sea." She broke free of Elijah's embrace to flit around the two room hut. "We must resume gathering our essential belongings."
"Afore you continue with the storing of your goods we should have words," Ayana said as her gaze slid from Esther to Bonnie. "The courses which were altered this moon rising stirred fate to labor an unrealized prophecy into existence. It is imperative we prepare."
Niklaus' eyes traced the uneven set of Bonnie's jaw line as his drawing pencil committed her loveliness to the pages of his sketch pad. She lay prone on his bed, her comely face turned towards him. Nothing but gloriously golden brown skin and a thin linen draped low over her rounded hips, covered her faultless person.
Her inherent allure enflamed his cock to the point of agony. Were he not in his adoptive son's body, he'd bury himself within her confining slicken channel, prophecy be damned. His gaze shifted from her jawline to the curvilinear lines that fashioned the unforgettable shape of her mouth. A recollection of the laurel tang which flavored her tongue enthused his embezzled body.
He tore his stare from her enviable lower lip and skimmed his scrutiny over her toned arm to admire each one of her brilliant little fingers. A flash of amber however pilfered his notice. Setting his sketch pad and pencil away, he stood and zipped over the bed. Confusion wrinkled his brow. The Bennett Talisman? Where the devil did that come from? He reached down to pluck it from her palm. The moment his fingers grazed the amber stone, reality exploded and bloody rewound itself.
Greta awakened to find herself wedged between the driver and passenger seat. Every part of her throbbed like she'd just gone balls to the wall through the wrong side of a barn. Smoke and burnt rubber seared the inner lining of her nostrils and scorched the back of her throat. A blaring noise intensified the pounding in her head. Her eyes opened and she came face to face with a wide eyed Dacklin. A shovel protruded from his forehead as his chest pressed against the horn of the steering wheel.
"Are you satisfied? They're both dead and there's no coffin," Lucy's voice met her ears.
"Yeah, well I'll have to take your word about them parlaying on the other side. I can't hear a damn thing over that fucking honking. Look, I know you think this is a waste of time, but I don't do loose ends." An unfamiliar voice replied. "The last thing I need is her surviving and running back to tell her lunatic boyfriend I'm not in that damn tomb."
"Yeah well, are you good?" Lucy's voice drifted to her from the passenger window.
"Check the damn attitude, Bennett." The voices began to drift away. "And don't act as if I'm the only one benefiting from the Martin witch catching her cut. Now you can spin the narrative when and if Klaus turns up."
Moments later she heard a car engine spark to life and drive away. She waited a full minute, and then struggled to sit up. A sharp pain pierced her side, while a searing burn assaulted her wrist. Breathing through the hurt, she glanced down and discovered a jagged glass fragment from the windshield embedded in her upper left abdomen, just beneath her breast. When she reached down to withdraw the glass she spotted the Bennett magical brand on her wrist. She'd been hexed. Her vision tunneled.
"Shit," she muttered, before glancing over her shoulder to the coffin.
Greta sent up a silent prayer her cloaking spell held. Her heart bled to think what she would've done if they discovered Klaus. Though, he was far from being safe. She needed to perform the spell before she passed out, or worse, Lucy and whoever came back.
She tossed her bag in the storage area, and damn near finished herself off when she climbed over the seat to follow. After the shooting sharp pain subsided, she opened the coffin lid. She took a second or ten to stare at him, while silently hoping this wasn't the last time she'd see him on this side of the veil.
With shaky hands she opened his mouth and poured in the mixture. Once she emptied the vial, she began to chant. Even as black spots peppered her vision, she recited each syllable with every bit of passion and magic that resided in her body. After the last words left her lips she gave herself over to the gathering darkness.
"Mother says we are to leave here." Niklaus whispered as he stared at the opposing side of the hut with a gaze often used by the unseeing. "I ponder what is to become of us." His crystal blue gaze swung to consider her. "Or to those with whom we are aquainted. My family and I are monsters who gorge themselves on the blood of humans. You are not secure in our presence. Just query my mate Evar."
She reached for his hand. He flinched, but he allowed her fingers to interlace with his. A quiver crept down her spine. There was no warmth left in his touch. Only the cool chill of the undead remained. She, however, didn't care. His unblinking stare still had the capability of setting fire to her magic. Her gaze dawdled over his profile and the arrogantly stubborn clench of his jawline. The quiver changed courses as it crept a little lower. She was glad his family and Ayana had left them alone for the time being. The last thing she wanted was for someone to witness her death by thirst.
"I'm not scared of you, Niklaus." Her magic surged to the surface of her skin. "So stop stressing so much. You and your family will be fine."
His eyes rolled, before consternation drove him to look away. "How will we be fine, when we are so utterly anything but?" He paused. When she refused to go back and forth with him he continued. "And you should be wary of me, little witch. You should be wary of us all. We are not those with whom you are familiar. For even now your mystical lifeblood croons to me."
He lifted their hands to his face, and then slowly ran his nose down her wrist. Her lungs shut down shop, while her Pop Rocker took it upon himself to start an intense round of Kegels. Niklaus froze as he side eyed the hell out of her. His pupil was so dilated she could barely see the blue of his iris. The quiver transcended into a tremble. Yet, instead of pissing herself a whole other flood saturated the tops of her thighs. His nostrils twitched.
"Does the fragrance which scents the air belong to you, little witch?" Before she could compose a clever clap back he shoved her back on his pallet of animal furs.
"Um…" She managed as she stared up at the low hanging ceiling of the hut.
Seconds later he obstructed her view by looming over her. All while making snuffling sounds as he continued to suck in unneeded amounts of air through his nose and mouth. His actions instigated more hot need to gush from her Pop Rocker. When simply inhaling the air stop being enough, he buried his face in the curve of her neck. After a few minutes of nuzzling one of her trigger spots, he descended her body drawing in deep breaths as he went until he reached her lower half. There, he pressed his face into her old tattered skirts and sucked in a shit ton of air. He looked up and his now blood red stare collided with hers to convey his plea.
She opened her mouth to say hell no, instead something else altogether came bubbling forth. "Okay, but you have to be quick and-,"
Before she could finish he was under her skirt burying his face in the apex of her thighs. His tongue thrust into the crevice of right thigh. More lust oozed from her core and snatched his focus. She felt his face move to the source of all their troubles.
"Niklaus, Mother has ask we gather at Ayana's-…oh!" Henrik stood frozen in the make shift doorway with wide eyes and an even wider mouth.
She snatched her skirts from over Niklaus' head and attempted to shove him from between her legs. "Okay, we were just coming…uh, on our way out. We were just on our way out." Henrik bobbed his head to assure her he understood.
After several seconds of nudging Niklaus, he moved and let her stand. Once on her feet she hurried across the tiny space and damn near ran the youngest Mikaelson down on her way out of the hut.
"A thousand apologies for the interruption, Niklaus. Had I known you were feasting I would've delayed myself," was the last thing she heard before running out of hearing distance.
As Niklaus tumbled through time significant periods of his life replayed themselves all about him. His birth, first steps, first time he spoke, first beating by the hand of his father and the first time he held a sword. All of these events whirled before him in an attached procession until one moment over took them all.
In the recollection he was a boy of eight summers, who'd done the unthinkable and spilt an entire day's worth of milk. He recalled Mikael giving him a sound beating for the transgression. The blows his step father dealt on that occasion were hardly worth noting. During that thrashing he'd only suffered a bruised eye.
Niklaus watched as Mikael berated his younger self, when the bastard raised an exacting hand he braced himself for the strike. Before the blow greeted him though, a very familiar little witch came tearing from the forest. Forgotten memories reacquainted themselves with his mind as the scene changed from what he'd always held to be true, to something he should've always known. He remembered his little witch! Though, how could he have ever misremembered her?
Just as her deviltry launched Mikael into a tree, he was once again tossed rearwards. This time he discovered himself under the white oak tree with Bonnie.
"Little Witch? Why do you insist on calling me that? I'm bigger than you," Bonnie's haughty tone rekindled the darkened pathways of his misplaced memories. Once again they flared to life, reestablishing themselves as confirmed history.
"Yes, but not for long. However, my gratitude is still yours to claim, Little Witch."
Soon after, she'd abandoned him. Yet, in the passing summers he could never rally the resolve to do the same to her. Even when others implored him to cease his childish ramblings of avenging witches, he still returned to the white oak tree in hopes of seeing her once more. As he moved to ponder the memory further, the spirits of days gone by once again absconded with him.
This time he was thrust into a memory which consisted of him and his long since departed brother Henrik. They were training in the woods. It was the same day his baby brother was slain by the wolves. He couldn't watch, for he knew once Henrik's training completed he'd beg to stay out later to see their lupine neighbors transform. However, that's not what happened. A few minutes into Henrik's drills…
"Hey, did either of you happen to see a little dirty faced blonde boy limping around here? I went to find help and when I came back he was gone."
Things he's always known to be fact became flagrant fiction. Henrik didn't perish the day before the full moon on his fourteenth spring. No the scamp returned to their mother so he could have an unchaperoned moment with the witch. He attempted to reflect upon what he'd just discovered only to be propelled through a series of varying memories.
Each memory spun tales of him and the witch. He saw the first time she'd plundered his mouth with hers. His mind even evoked the taste of her lips. He recalled her look of distress when Elijah and Tatia happened upon them and how she tumbled out of existence soon after. He remembered her sitting with him the first and only time he shifted into a wolf. The reassurance and comfort she lent him still resonated deep within…
"There's nothing to be ashamed of. No matter what form you're in you'll always be beautiful to me…Everything is going to be fine. I'm a witch and you're a wolf. I know it's sheer madness, but we're going to figure out all of this fuckery…together."
However the most compelling moment of all was when she faced down Mikael with the fires of Tartarus blazing from her eyes. She defeated the arrogant whoreson without lending much thought or effort to her actions. Her sorcery was unmatched. And her words…
"I'll always stand for you, Niklaus. I promise."
She was his and she had said as much herself. As he kneeled to admire the compelling angles of her off-putting features, he once again fell victim to his redefining history. This time he discovered himself in the clearing of his family's farm. Bonnie rushed pass him headed in the direction of Ayana's quarters. The scent of her arousal teased his nostrils, and without thought he gave chase. By the moment he made it to Ayana's, Bonnie was seated near Rebekah next to the fire.
He moved to enter, but Ayana stepped in his path. "Now is not the moment to know all, Niklaus." And with those words expressed realism collapsed in on itself.
His lids opened. All was dark, save an artificial glow. A deafening honking violated his unrivaled auditory senses. Senses he could only claim if he'd returned to his original form. Impossible! He stilled. Greta and he hadn't spoken since he'd taken on Marcel's person. He lifted his arms, pale skin collided with his sightline. Utilizing his vampire speed, he sat upright to glance his surroundings. He was inside his coffin which had been stored in the back of a derelict SUV.
Chancing a look over his shoulder, he spied a human male with a shovel protruding from his skull. Glass from the windshield embedded itself in his face and neck. The engine still purred with life, despite its front end collision with a rust ridden tractor. His gaze swung from the front of the vehicle to consider the shattered rear window. The ancient mouthwatering scent of Bennett magic incited his supernatural senses. Lucy? Greta's fragrant witch blood alerted the predator in him, all was not well.
"Klaus," Greta's weakened voice called to him from the floor of the storage area.
At original speed, he abandoned his coffin to crowd close at Greta's side. Gently, he shifted her limp frame into his arms, before tearing into his wrist and feeding her his blood. As he pulled back to assess her injuries a jagged edge snared his shirt. A glass shard had punctured her side. He removed the offending object without delay. Instead of closing, the wound continued to ooze. Concern mercilessly knitted his brows together.
"Klaus," she croaked.
"Why aren't you healing?" She raised her arm. The magical symbol of the Bennetts' was etched into her inner wrist. He forced his eyes back to her drooping gaze. The familiar burn of betrayal took root at the center of his immortality. "Who hexed you, love?" His back teeth clenched as he waited for his paramour to level the charge.
"Lucy," She managed to say just before her eyes reclosed.
As Bonnie sat next to Rebekah, she snuck sideway glances at the blonde when she wasn't looking. Random bullshit slipped from her lips every so often to capture her girl's attention, but other than a few fake smiles, Beks ignored her for the most part. After her third failed attempt to spark conversation, Kol sat down next to her.
"What sort of era is your, nine and two thousand, where maidens can openly yearn for other maidens in the full view of all?" He whispered next to her ear.
Her eyes rolled. Why the fuck was he whispering? Almost everyone in the room was a vampire with supersonic hearing. As if queued Rebekah glanced at her, offering her a polite smile that promised absolutely nothing. While Elijah turned to regard her with an indifferent expression and unreadable eyes. Embarrassment roasted the hell out her cakes. She knew like hell, Kol didn't have her in 999 looking like a dry mouthed Original groupie. Her glare swung to him with the full intention of fileting his shit starting ass. He returned her death glare with his signature smirk and a provoking sable stare.
"2009 is the sort of era where people mind their own damn business. Why don't you skip your ass off and practice for the future, Toots," she said, before angling away from him. He'd thoroughly pissed her dry and for the moment she was sooo good on him.
The make shift door swung open. Henrik and Niklaus entered. The younger Mikaelson gave her a nod, before averting his gaze. Red stained his cheeks as he crossed the limited space to stand next to Elijah, while the elder Mikaelson opted to stand next to the door refusing to make eye contact with anyone, including her.
"He's often despondent when troubled," Rebekah said, sliding a little closer to her. "Elijah spoke of how you came to mother's aid. My gratitude is yours …"
"Bonnie," she said, feeling a little…shy? "Call me Bonnie."
Rebekah attempted another smile, but the corners of her mouth just couldn't seem to make the trip north. "Niklaus' character in not usually one of vicious intent. However, since we became…inhuman." Her tortured gaze flew to the blonde brooding Mikaelson by the door. "Our sentiments are embellished."
"Embellished?" Kol snorted. "Last rising a hound from the neighboring farm trampled Bekah's blossom patch and she slaughtered all of the occupants on the bordering grange. Curiously, she allowed the hound to live," he whispered, while attempting to play with a lock of her hair. She slapped his hands away.
"Cease your prattle, plague sore," Rebekah hissed. Quicker than Bonnie's eyes could track, the blonde plunged an iron poker in Kol's thigh.
His face dissolved into bloody eyes, writhing veins, and salivating fangs. "Bekah!"
"Rebekah and Kol, you were not bred as savages. Conclude cavorting as such," Ayana reprimanded.
Rebekah's face crumpled. "Yes, Ayana."
"Yes, Ayana." Kol removed the poker from his thigh and dropped it next to him.
"Although the Bennetts and Debenhams-,"
"Who the shit break is the Debenhams?" The question bogarded its way out before Bonnie could press her lips together.
"Debenham is mother's maiden name," Elijah supplied.
"Although, the Bennetts and Debenhams has long since known Nature's ire," Ayana spared them a look that spoke volumes about her not coming there to play or be interrupted. Authority, purpose, and prehistoric mystical energy swirled around her as she stepped in the center of the room. "We've never experienced the full weight of her wrath. From this moon rising forth, this will no longer hold true. Our station in the supernatural procession is altered. The pathway which now lies before our families will be broken and riddled with hardships."
"Permit me to clarify," Kol shifted closer to her as he raised a finger to Ayana. "Mother and father commits filicide in an attempt to squander death, which only served to alienate Nature who in turn retaliated by not only severing our connection to our sorcery but also the natural world. A thousand apologies, Ayana, but it does not require foresightedness to comprehend our pathway is already broken and bears the burden of hardships."
The tremor in Kol's voice provoked her to grab his hand. Instead of pulling away, his fingers interlaced with hers and locked there palms together.
"My son you have not an inkling of the misfortunes the mother of all will bestow now she considers us all her adversaries. As Ayana professed afore, Nature's rancor has been ever present in regards to our families. And yet even in the face of her indignation I have obediently served her. Had she not saw fit to target my children, I'd still be a loyal servant of maintaining the balance," Esther assured. She moved to join Ayana in the center of the room.
"Mother, I am mindful enough to discern Freya's…death was difficult on you and father. Death, however, is part of life's natural order. Your unreasonable paranoia has driven you to do the inconceivable," Finn's voice drifted from a darkened corner of the room. "Nature is quite justified in seeking retribution."
"Unreasonable paranoia!" Esther tsked. She straightened herself to her full five feet and eight inches as her artic glare narrowed on Finn. "Sister, has the quarters been warded so we may freely converse?"
"All is well. You may speak without censor," Ayana said, before taking a step back.
"When your father and I wed, our attempts to bare babes was spurned by nature," Esther began. "For nigh two summers we endeavored to no avail. When all else failed, I sought out my sister Dahlia."
"Sister?" Rebekah questioned.
Esther nodded. "She was my elder sister." She took a moment to pause. "Our sisterhood grew estranged, however, after I wed your father."
Elijah left his position by the wall to move closer. "Why did you seek her out?"
"Dahlia is also witch." Esther clasped her hands together and began wringing them. Her feet shuffled as her gaze shifted about the hut. "A powerful witch to be sure. More powerful than I in verity. She excelled in the dark arts and I required magical intervention which communed beyond the realms of nature magic." A slight shrug bobbed her shoulder, while her chin rose a fraction of an inch higher. "After some period of imploring her for assistance with filling my womb with child Dahlia agreed, but not before she told me there would be a price."
"A price?" Kol squeezed her hand. "What price?"
"Silence, Kol," Finn seethed, hurtling to his feet. His gaze softened as it returned to Esther. "Continue mother."
Tears brimmed her lower lids, while a smile trembled at the corners of her mouth. "Foolishly I disregarded her forewarning, and all but misremembered it the following winter when I was heavy with child. I didn't recall her caveat again until Freya fell ill with plague. I then realized, Nature meant to dispatch my faultless babe for the sole purpose of reestablishing balance to her scales." Her head swung from side to side in tiny quick shakes. "I couldn't permit the fickle bitch to have her way." Tears overran the barrier of her lower lids and trickled down her face. "So I sent for Dahlia, but by the time she appeared my first born was near her end."
"So she perished," Rebekah whispered.
"Before the eyes of Nature." Esther sighed as her stare strayed to the burning sage by the make shift door. "Yet before the eyes of her mother, brother, and aunt, she thrived. Dahlia healed her with changeling magic and cloaked her from Nature's notice with aid from the dark arts."
"Our sister lives?" Niklaus spoke for the first time. Bonnie's magic sizzled within her vessels at the sound of his voice.
"Yes," Finn confirmed.
Kol scoffed. "You knew, of course!"
"Mother, where is she?" A hint of excitement flared in Rebekah's voice.
"Your duplicity wands on without nary a hope of a true moment," Niklaus' indicting stare bore into Esther.
Esther sighed and continued on, all while ignoring the blistering heat of her younger son's resentment. "In this my duplicity was warranted. It was crucial I remained silent over what verily happened to Freya. For the benefit of her fate and yours. Your elder sister's conception was fostered by dark magic. Its mystical energy branded her very being as such."
"So you abandoned her to the rubbish pile for being a victim of your indiscretion," Klaus bellowed. Every inch of him appeared to tremble. Bonnie rose and crossed the hut to stand next him. Instinctively his arm wrapped around her and drew her into his side.
Ayana clucked her tongue. "Allow you mother to speak until conclusion, Niklaus."
"Nay, I sacrificed my role in her life in hopes of saving you all." Esther hammered back. "Though your conceptions were natural each of your magic still has the taint of dark deviltry. For it was the dark arts which rendered my wound viable. And each of your quickenings explicated the truth of your origins. By the period of Henrik's magical summit, the vilest visions of all your demises afflicted me from rising to setting." She waved a hand at the youngest Mikaelson. "If I'd allowed fate to have her way, Henrik would've perished two springs passed."
"Perish!" Henrik gasped as his wide chocolate brown gaze wandered to each of his siblings. "Is that still to be my fate then, mother?"
"Not now, Henrik!" She slapped a hand to her chest, glaring at them all in challenge. "So once again I did what was required to save you all. Had I not, Nature would have butchered each and every one of you for your dubious beginnings."
"Which also holds true for the Bennetts." Ayana's scrutiny discovered Bonnie. "For an offense committed by an ancestor of our line, we are made to suffer Nature's wrath as well. To always be displeasing in her eyes. Yet, the prophecy which revealed itself made me privy to the error of my beliefs. Nature does not spurn us for past indiscretions committed by our ancestors." Condemnation strengthened her voice as certitude glimmered her nut brown eyes. She slowly turned to regard the room. "She holds us in contempt, because she fears what is to come. The Mikaelson and Bennett lines will merge and in due course usurp Nature's governance over supernatural affairs. It has been foretold."