The grand halls of the Mikaelson estate felt colder than usual as Ilia lay on a chaise in one of the sitting rooms. Her body was weak, trembling as the transformation slowly took hold. The searing hunger gnawed at her, growing stronger with each passing moment.
Katerina hovered nearby, pacing with worry etched into her face. Klaus leaned against the mantle, his sharp eyes flicking between Ilia and Kol, who stood steadfast by her side.
"She needs to feed," Klaus said bluntly, his tone devoid of sympathy. "The longer she waits, the worse it will be."
"She's not ready," Katerina snapped, her voice laced with desperation. "She didn't ask for this!"
"No one ever does," Klaus replied coldly. "But the choice has already been made. If she doesn't feed, she'll die."
Kol, who had remained quiet until now, finally spoke, his voice steady but firm. "I'll take care of it."
Katerina stopped pacing, her eyes narrowing at him. "What do you mean?"
"I mean I'll be the one to help her," Kol said, crouching beside Ilia. He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his touch gentle. "She doesn't need you hovering over her, making this harder."
"She's my sister!" Katerina argued, stepping forward.
"And she's not just your sister anymore," Kol retorted, his gaze locking onto hers. "She's one of us now. And that means she needs someone who understands what she's going through."
Katerina opened her mouth to argue, but Elijah's calm voice cut through the tension. "Kol is right, Katerina. Ilia's transition is delicate, and Kol is uniquely… suited to help her navigate it."
Katerina looked between Elijah and Klaus, then back at Kol. Finally, she relented, her shoulders slumping. "Fine. But if anything happens to her—"
"Nothing will happen to her," Kol interrupted, his voice softening as he turned back to Ilia. "I won't let it."
Later that evening, Kol guided Ilia to a quiet room away from the others. A decanter of blood sat on a small table, its dark crimson contents swirling faintly in the candlelight. Ilia sat on the edge of a chair, her body trembling as the hunger clawed at her insides.
"I can't do this," she whispered, her voice shaky. "I don't want to hurt anyone."
Kol knelt in front of her, his dark eyes meeting hers. "You're not going to hurt anyone, love. Not tonight. This is controlled. Safe."
Ilia looked away, tears stinging her eyes. "This isn't what I wanted."
"I know," Kol said gently. "But it's what you've got now. And you're stronger than you think, Ilia. You've already faced worse than this."
Her eyes flicked to the decanter, the smell of the blood overwhelming her senses. Her stomach twisted with both revulsion and longing. "It's so… strong."
Kol nodded. "That's the hunger. It's brutal at first, but you'll learn to control it. Tonight, you just need to take the first step."
Ilia hesitated, her hands gripping the chair tightly. Kol reached out, his touch firm but comforting as he took one of her hands in his.
"Look at me," he said softly. "You're not alone in this. I'll guide you through every step. Just trust me."
Her gaze locked onto his, the sincerity in his voice grounding her. With a deep breath, she reached for the decanter, her hands trembling as she lifted it to her lips. The first sip sent a rush of warmth through her, the hunger easing slightly but not disappearing. She drank more, her body relaxing as the blood worked its way through her system.
When she finished, she set the empty decanter down, her breathing steadying. "That… wasn't as terrible as I thought."
Kol grinned, his relief evident. "See? Told you it wouldn't be so bad."
Ilia managed a faint smile, though the weight of her transformation still hung heavily over her. "Thank you, Kol. For everything."
Kol reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "You don't have to thank me, love. I'm just glad you're still here."
For a moment, they sat in silence, the bond between them growing stronger. Ilia knew her life had changed irrevocably, but with Kol by her side, she felt a spark of hope. Whatever challenges lay ahead, she wasn't facing them alone.