Another chapter! To prove I'm really continuing this story!

Enjoy!

—

The Gold Coast mansion stood with quiet defiance within the city's modern, restless energy. A testament to old money and impeccable taste of the first owners, its red-brick façade and limestone trims exuded an air of refined power, framed by the lush greenery that softened its grandeur. The wrought-iron fencing, adorned with climbing ivy and vibrant florals, shielded the estate from the ever-moving streets of Chicago. Tall, arched windows punctuated the exterior, their dark frames allowing only fleeting glimpses into the opulence within. The second and third floor balconies were also adorned with more wrought-iron railings. At the main entrance, a set of stone steps led to deep red double doors—solid, unyielding, yet strangely inviting, as if daring visitors to step inside and see whatever history and ghosts lay waiting.

The house itself felt like something out of time. And now, it belonged to the Mikaelsons.

The parlor was a space that whispered of old-world class without boasting it. The high ceilings were embellished with intricate plaster molding, while the dark oak paneling along the walls grounded the room. Heavy velvet drapes, a deep shade of forest green, framed the tall windows where Rebekah stood, the city lights flickering beyond the glass like distant stars.

A marble fireplace, its carved mantel decorated with antique candelabras, sat unlit but imposing, the room's true centerpiece. Above it, an oil painting—a classical, moody landscape—hung over the space, its gilded frame catching the dim lighting from the sconces mounted on the walls. The furniture was plush but deliberate, meant for conversation rather than comfort. A pair of tufted velvet armchairs in a muted blue hue faced one another, with a low mahogany table between them, its surface home to a crystal decanter, presently filled with bourbon, and a selection of short tumblers. Across from the chairs, there was a matching tufted couch. A grand yet well-worn Persian rug lay beneath their feet, deep reds and golds woven into an intricate pattern that had likely witnessed decades of secrets.

This was not merely a place to sit—it was a place to calculate, to strategize, to decide the course of things far greater than the mundane world beyond its windows.

Rebekah had her arms crossed, her sleek white blouse tucked into high-waisted black trousers, the fabric draping just enough to hint at elegance without sacrificing authority. A single gold pendant with a lapis crystal rested against her collarbone, the pyrite flecks catching the dim light. Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a loose, effortless ponytail, but there was nothing effortless about the way she surveyed her brothers.

Klaus had made himself comfortable in one of the armchairs, his usual air of smug amusement well intact, for now. He was dressed as he always was–casual yet stylish. A fitted black henley under a well-worn leather jacket, dark jeans, and leather boots. The only thing more predictable than his wardrobe was the glint in his blue eyes as he watched his sister process the latest revelation.

Elijah, on the other hand, was as composed as ever, seated across from Klaus in the second armchair. His suit jacket was hung, leaving him in his navy slacks and his crisp white dress shirt that was unbuttoned just enough, tie a bit loose, to suggest he was off-duty, though Elijah was never truly off-duty. He could still manage casual refinement after a thousand years. In truth, and his brother and sister knew it too, his appearance was always a mask to disguise the violence he was very much capable of. The noble stag.

Rebekah exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "So let me get this straight. You found a witch, and she might be able to make us human?"

Elijah inclined his head. "Yes. She had a vision of it."

Klaus swirled the bourbon in his glass, smirking. "She dreamt of baptizing us, Bekah. How poetic."

Rebekah narrowed her eyes, her own glass in her delicate fingers, her nails manicured. "And you believe this, really?"

Elijah's expression didn't waver. "It is not a matter of belief. It is a matter of real possibility."

Rebekah turned, pacing across the floor, her heels dulled by the rug. "And who is she? This girl? Where did she come from? Who trained her?"

Elijah rested his elbow on the armrest. "She is an unknown. No coven, no known lineage of power to those in Chicago, nothing to suggest she should be capable of something this extraordinary."

Rebekah scoffed. "Fantastic. So we're putting our bloody fate in the hands of nobody."

Klaus chuckled. "A nobody who shattered a lightbulb with a flick of her temper."

Rebekah shot him a surprised look. "So she's volatile."

"A bit, perhaps," Elijah murmured.

Klaus leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his smirk unwavering. "She's terrified of her own power, which makes her unpredictable. But it also means she hasn't even begun to scratch the surface of what she can do."

Rebekah exhaled, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Let's say this actually works. Let's say she can break the magic created us. Have either of you thought about what that means?"

Elijah met her gaze, silent.

Klaus merely smiled. "Enlighten us."

Rebekah's blue eyes burned suddenly, aghast that they hadn't realized the consequences. "If she turns us human, it will affect all vampires."

The words hung in the air like a storm cloud, thick and electric. Klaus' smirk faded. Elijah's jaw tensed.

Rebekah pressed on, voice low, deliberate. "Every vampire we've ever sired. Every vampire they've ever sired. Thousands. Tens of thousands. Maybe more. Human, or possibly dead." She let the weight of it settle before adding, "And do you really think they'll let that happen without a fight?"

But Klaus' grin returned, gaze glinting with something dangerously close to eagerness. "Then we'll just have to get to her first."

Rebekah let out a sharp breath again, shaking her head. "You're impossible."

Elijah finally broke his silence, his tone even but weighted. "Liza hasn't refused yet." He glanced at Klaus. "And I'd rather not push her."

Rebekah arched a brow. "So what's the plan? Keep stringing her along until she stumbles into the truth herself?"

Elijah sighed slowly. "She doesn't understand the full scope of what she could be capable of. Not yet." He met Rebekah's gaze, steady and resolute. "That's why we need to be the ones guiding her. Protecting her."

Klaus chuckled, sipping the amber liquid in his glass. "And who better to do that than us?"

Rebekah scoffed and sank onto the couch, stretching her legs out like she was already exhausted. "This is going to be a disaster."

Klaus smirked. "Now it really feels like a family reunion."

Elijah ignored him, glancing at the tall windows as if he could already see where this was headed. "We should all speak to her–and Ollie, her best friend. If this is going to work, they both need to hear it from us."

Seeing Klaus' sneaky look, Rebekah scoffed, lounging back against the plush velvet. "You're enjoying this far too much."

"How could I not? It's been so long since we've had a proper challenge. And this one–" he tilted his head, eyes gleaming with amusement, "–comes with a rather intriguing bonus."

Elijah looked, deadpan, at Klaus, knowing whom he was referring to.

Rebekah's gaze flicked to him, unimpressed. "You mean the witch who can undo us, or the werewolf who'd rather see us dead?"

Klaus' smirk only widened. "Why not both?" He leaned forward, his voice dropping into something smoother, more calculated. "Liza's power is still unrefined, but her instincts are sharp. And her friend?" He chuckled. "Olympia is something else entirely, isn't she?"

Rebekah rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't tell me. You like this one."

Klaus pressed a hand to his chest, mock-wounded. "Am I not allowed to appreciate a creature with a bit of fire?"

Elijah, who had been silent through their bickering, finally set his own drink down on the low table with a quiet clink. "This isn't a game, Niklaus."

Klaus turned to him, tilting his head. "Oh, but it is, brother. The question is–who's playing who?"

Elijah exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. "We need her trust. Both of theirs."

Klaus smirked. "Then it's a good thing I'm so likable."

Rebekah made a disgusted noise and threw a fancy, embroidered pillow at him. Klaus caught it effortlessly, giving a laugh.

Elijah ignored them both. "We speak with Liza and Ollie together. No more surprises. No more intimidation." His gaze sharpened pointedly at Klaus, silently reminding him of the other day when they arrived unannounced at the girls' apartment. "We do this my way."

Klaus sighed theatrically and raised his free hand in surrender. "Fine, fine. You and your diplomacy." Then, as an afterthought, he grinned at Rebekah. "But do keep in mind, sister, if this actually works, you might just get what you've always wanted."

Rebekah's expression hardened. "Don't."

Klaus only smiled, slow and knowing. "I'm just saying...a cure for immortality does sound an awful lot like a certain little wish of yours."

Rebekah said nothing, but her grip tightened on the glass in her hand. She had a large swig, as if it were merely colored water.

Elijah stood. "I'll reach out to Liza. We meet tomorrow."

Klaus stretched, finishing his drink in one go. "Tomorrow, then." He glanced at Rebekah, watching her carefully. "Sleep on it, dear sister. Who knows? You might wake up wanting this after all."

Rebekah didn't reply, but as Klaus and Elijah walked out, she stared down into her drink, the truth of his words settling uncomfortably in her chest. She sat alone in the dimly lit parlor, the revelations still pressing against her ribs. A cure for immortality. A way out. A future she'd long since stopped hoping for.

Her fingers ghosted over the screen of her phone, the familiar name already pulled up. Marcel Gerard. She exhaled, thumb hovering over the keyboard. Half of her wanted to tell him she was here, in the city. That despite everything, despite the years of history and heartbreak between them, he was still the one person she wanted to see.

But then what? Would he welcome her back, or would he see her as a threat? Would he try to stop her? Would he even want what she wanted? Her jaw tightened. No. She couldn't afford distractions–not now. With another sharp breath, she locked the screen and set the phone facedown on the table, fingers curling into a fist beside it. She'd wait.

--

The apartment was dimly lit, the only real glow coming from the kitchen, casting long shadows down the hallway. A crime show played low on the TV, the dialogue muffled beneath the hum of the city outside. Neither of the girls were watching it.

Ollie sat curled in the corner of the couch, a half-finished wine glass in her hand, her legs tucked under her. She looked exhausted, like the weight of the past twenty-four hours had finally settled onto her shoulders. Liza sat on the floor, her back against the couch, arms wrapped around her knees. She wore legging and an old Slytherin crew neck sweatshirt. The air between them was thick–too much left unsaid.

Ramses let out a quiet sigh from where he was sprawled out near the coffee table, his paws twitching in his sleep.

Ollie broke the silence first. "I still don't get why you went to meet him."

Liza exhaled through her nose. "Because I had to. I freaked the fuck out, Ollie. And I knew you were busy at work."

Ollie shot her a look.

Liza ran a hand through her mussed hair, pulling it over one shoulder and twirling a strand anxiously. "I don't know, okay? I wasn't planning on telling him about the dream, but then Benny was dead, and it felt–" She hesitated, pressing her lips together. "It felt like I didn't have a choice."

Ollie took a slow sip of her wine. "And what did he say?"

Liza swallowed, shifting where she sat. She had a sip of her own wine. "That I shouldn't ignore it. That it could mean something."

Ollie scoffed. "Of course that's what he said."

Liza clenched her jaw. She knew how it sounded, but it wasn't that simple.

Ollie sighed, rubbing at her head. "So now what?"

Liza hesitated. Then, quietly, she said, "There was another dream..."

Ollie stiffened. "What?"

Liza's fingers tightened around her glass. "I didn't tell you about it before because...I don't know. It didn't seem real." She let out a breath. "But after everything, after Benny–" She shook her head. "I think it was real."

Ollie sat up straighter, setting her glass on the table. "Okay. So tell me."

Liza swallowed. "I was on the beach, at the lake. It was dark, but the water was warm. You weren't there, but Elijah was. And Klaus. And...a blonde girl, Rebekah, their sister."

Ollie's expression darkened, her arched brows furrowing.

Liza shifted uncomfortably, put her wine down to hug herself. "They were in the lake, like they were expecting me. I–I don't know why, but I went in and I reached out, and I pushed them under, one by one. Like I was baptizing them." She glanced at Ollie, her throat tightening. "And when they came back up, they weren't vampires anymore."

Ollie just stared at her.

Liza let out a breath. "Say something," she begged.

Ollie exhaled slowly. "Okhuet, Liza." Fucking crazy,

Liza scoffed. "Yeah, that's super helpful."

Ollie ignored her, dragging a hand down her face. "You're telling me you had a dream about turning three Original vampires human?"

Liza hesitated, then nodded.

Ollie looked at her like she'd just sprouted another head. "And you're just now telling me this? Tchyo za hui'nya?" What the fuck?

Liza threw up her hands. "Blayt! I didn't know what it meant! I still don't know what it means!" Fuck!

Ollie got off the couch and paced a few steps before turning back to her. "But you told Elijah."

Liza pressed her lips together, remaining where she was. "Yeah."

Ollie let out a breath, rubbing the back of her neck. It took a lot to have her freak out, and she looked very much like she was on the brink of it. "And?" She gestured with a hand, holding it out beside her.

Liza twirled her hair. "He thinks it means something. That it's possible."

Ollie rolled her eyes. "Of course he does."

Liza didn't argue.

Before either of them could say anything else, Liza's phone buzzed on the coffee table.

She glanced at the screen.

Elijah: Can you and Ollie meet us tomorrow?

She swallowed, turning the phone toward Ollie, who hurriedly came up to her.

Ollie read the message and let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Unbelievable."

Liza exhaled, fingers hovering over the keyboard. She didn't want to go. But at this point, did she really have a choice?

She typed back. Where? She hit send, watching as the message turned from delivered to read in an instant. She didn't even have time to brace herself before the three dots appeared.

Elijah: Klaus has acquired a residence in the Gold Coast. We'll meet there. 2 PM.

Liza's fingers tightened around her phone.

Ollie peered over her shoulder, eyebrows lifting. "Acquired?"

Liza gave her a deadpan look. "I think that's vampire for "compelled the owners to get the hell out.""

Ollie snorted, shaking her head. "Of course he did." She dropped back onto the couch, rubbing her temples. "You sure you wanna do this?"

Liza hesitated, then typed back.

Liza: Fine. We'll be there.

Another instant read.

Elijah: Thank you.

She locked her phone and tossed it onto the couch behind her, then reached for her wine again. "I don't know," she said before having a gulp.

Ollie studied her. "You're actually considering it, huh?"

Liza ran a hand through her hair. "Considering what? I don't even know what I'm agreeing to. But after Benny–" She hesitated, her fingers lingering in her tresses, wringing them. "I just feel like if I ignore this, something worse might happen."

Ollie frowned.

Liza sighed. "You don't have to come, you know."

Ollie laugh dryly. "Yeah, no. You're not doing this alone."

Liza felt a little relief at that, but it didn't last long.

Ollie leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "You really think you can make them human again?"

Liza swallowed. "I don't know."

Ollie studied her for a long moment, then sighed. "Well, either way, you better get some sleep. I'll handle Ramses in the morning."

Liza nodded, the dull throb of a headache creeping in at the crown of her head—whether from pulling her hair too tight or the situation, probably both. "Yeah. Thanks."

Ollie stretched, arms overhead, her smirk already forming. "G'night, Bella Swan."

Liza groaned, rubbing her head. "Night, Teen Wolf."

Ollie disappeared down the hall, laughing, leaving Liza alone with the quiet weight of the evening. She stayed seated on the floor, her back against the couch, staring at nothing in particular as she finished the last of her wine. Outside, the city lived on—the distant honk of a car, the wail of a siren, the murmur of voices from passersby. Life moved forward, oblivious to the fact that the supernatural was bleeding into her world, reshaping it piece by piece.

Reaching for her phone, she turned it over in her hand, thumb hovering over the screen before finally pressing the button. Elijah's last message stared back at her. Thank you. Simple. Measured. So very him.

She exhaled, turning the screen off, setting the phone aside again. Tomorrow, she and Ollie would walk into the lion's den once again—face-to-face with all three Originals. And somehow, that felt far more daunting than any job interview or public speaking nightmare she could imagine.

--

The silver Ford Mustang pulled up along the curb, its engine rumbling before cutting off. The street was quiet, but the mansion loomed ahead, an elegant relic of a different era. It wasn't just impressive–it was intimidating.

Liza gripped the steering wheel a little too tightly before exhaling and shifting the gear into park. Her reflection in the rearview mirror caught her eye–smoky, dark makeup, bold liner sharpening her gaze. She had done it deliberately, wanting to look far less vulnerable than she felt. Maybe even a little intimidating. At least like she could hold her own. The green leather jacket she always wore was zipped up halfway over a fitted gray top, paired with her default dark jeans and boots.

Beside her, Ollie was a sharp contrast–bright, lively, effortless. Her makeup was vivid, warm tones on her eyelids, lips a deep red that stood out even in the dim light. Her thick dark hair was zhuzhed up. She had opted for something casual but striking–a cropped pink sweater under a jean jacket, high-waisted blue jeans, and cute booties that added a little height to make her even with Liza. Even now, she radiated confidence, or at least the appearance of it.

Liza tapped her fingers against the wheel before finally sighing. "Do we knock?"

Ollie snorted. "Pretty sure they already know we're here."

She wasn't wrong. As they climbed out, the massive doors creaked open, and Elijah stood there, dressed impeccably as always, as if he had just stepped out of another century, or a business meeting where he was CEO of the company. His gaze moved between the two of them, assessing, unreadable–but then, subdued friendliness crossed his features, a small smile.

"Good evening," he greeted, ever polite, ever composed. His eyes lingered on Liza's makeup for a second longer than necessary before he stepped aside, wordlessly inviting them in.

Liza and Ollie exchanged a glance before crossing the threshold into the mansion. The air inside was cool, still, and thick with the scent of aged wood and something faintly spiced–like old books and clove. The sheer size of the place hit Liza immediately. The high ceilings, the sweeping staircase, the intricate molding that framed every doorway–it was a house meant for legends, for people who had long stopped belonging to the world outside. Vampires.

Liza pulled her green leather jacket tighter around herself, her boots clicking softly against the polished floors as she followed Elijah's lead. She didn't look at him, not yet. She was still reeling from the sheer audacity of the place.

Ollie, on the other hand, let out a low wow. "So when you guys play house, you really commit."

Elijah merely inclined his head, half amusement, half indifference. "We appreciate a certain...grandeur."

Liza scoffed under her breath. "You mean Klaus forced some poor family out of their generational wealth."

A smooth, familiar voice drifted from the grand living area before Elijah could respond.

"Oh, come now, love. You make it sound so crude."

And there was Klaus, leaning lazily against the marble fireplace, drink in hand, as usual, a smirk curving his lips. He looked relaxed, like he had lived here for decades rather than a couple of days. "I persuaded them to take an extended vacation." He lifted his glass in a mock toast. "And they were more than happy to oblige."

Ollie shot Liza a look that screamed, See? but said nothing.

Liza exhaled sharply, her fingers twitching at her sides, cold. "Where's, uh, your sister Rebekah?" she asked, cutting through whatever unnecessary pleasantries Klaus was about to throw at them.

"Impatient, are we?" Klaus grinned.

But before Liza could snap back, a pair of heels clacked against the marble floor, and Rebekah entered the room. She was effortlessly poised, her golden hair framing her face in soft waves. She had chosen something tailored but undeniably feminine–a fitted beige blazer over a silk black blouse, slim trousers, and red-bottomed heels that made her presence even more commanding. Her sharp blue gaze flicked between them, then settled on Ollie. She took in the bright makeup, the cropped sweater, the high-waisted jeans–and then, to everyone's surprise, she smirked.

"Well," she said, tilting her head, a rare warmth in her tone. "At least someone here has a sense of style."

Ollie blinked, caught between wariness and disbelief. Then, to Liza's absolute shock, she smiled back. "What can I say? I like to dress like I'm the main character."

Rebekah actually laughed, and Liza felt the weight of the day shift–just a little.

Elijah watched the interaction, his features still neutral, but his eyes caught the subtle signs of tension melting away. He cleared his throat softly. "I believe our business awaits us."

He motioned towards the plush velvet seating. Klaus, ever theatrical, settled into the armchair that he'd made his, his gaze moving between Liza and Ollie with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation.

Elijah remained standing. Rebekah settled in the second armchair, crossing her legs daintily. She looked entirely at home, too, like she belonged there–because, in a way, she did. Across from them, on the couch, Ollie sat down first, giving the cushions an appreciative pat before leaning back with an easy confidence. Liza followed, slower, more hesitant, sinking into the seat but keeping her arms crossed, as if that could serve as some kind of barrier between her and everything that was happening.

Klaus, ever theatrical, spread his arms, glass in hand, one ankle resting over his knee. Mirth played at the corners of his mouth. He looked distinctly like a fox.

For a moment, silence settled over the room, thick and expectant.

"Well then," Klaus drawled, lifting his glass with a smirk. "Shall we discuss the fate of our existence?"

Elijah took in the tension that laced Liza's every movement, the way her gaze flickered around the room like she was searching for an escape route. He understood the need to control her environment, to seek a sense of normalcy amidst the chaos. He felt a pang of sympathy in his chest, even if he didn't show it. The mask he wore wasn't just his perfect clothes. He was a master of schooling every tiny shift in his rigid body.

He met Klaus' eyes. "Perhaps it's best to start with an understanding of the situation."

Rebekah exhaled, smoothing a hand over her blouse as she leaned back in her chair. "Yes, let's," she said, her voice measured but edged with something tense. "Because from what I understand, we're standing on the precipice of something...that should be impossible."

Ollie shifted beside Liza, resting her forearm on the arm of the couch. "Yeah, see, that's what I don't get. You all keep acting like Liza's some kind of supernatural wrecking ball, but we don't even know what she's capable of."

Klaus chuckled, eyes flicking between them. "No, love, we don't." He took a slow sip of his drink, savoring the taste before continuing. "But what we do know is that she's already seeing things–things that come to pass." His gaze lingered on Liza. "That she is tethered to us in ways we cannot yet explain."

Liza shifted uncomfortably. "I wouldn't say 'tethered.'"

Rebekah arched a brow. "Wouldn't you?" She leaned forward slightly, clasping her hands in her lap. "You dreamt of Benjamin's death before it happened. You dreamt of us–of something happening to us–before you even knew who we were. That's no coincidence."

Liza tensed, fingers digging into the sleeves of her jacket. "I don't know what any of it means," she insisted. "And I don't like that you're acting like I do."

Elijah, ever patient, inclined his head slightly. "That's precisely why we're here–to piece together what we do know and determine where to go from there."

Klaus huffed a quiet laugh before meeting his sister's gaze. "And I suppose now is as good a time as any to bring up the rather inconvenient detail you mentioned last night."

Rebekah casted a wary glance at Elijah before speaking. "Our sirelines," she said simply, letting the words settle in the air. She looked at Liza and Ollie. "You don't know what that means, do you?"

Ollie shook her head in the negative, but Liza just stared, her expression guarded. "No," she admitted, "but I have a feeling you're about to tell us."

Elijah slowly stepped between the chairs and the couch. His eyes moved to Liza, gauging her reaction with a calculated ease. This was delicate territory–the information that was about to be shared would change everything she thought she knew.

"Our kind are connected through sirelines," Elijah began, his tone patient like that of a professor's. "A sire is one who turns a human into a vampire, thus becoming their sire and creating a sireline. When an original vampire dies, so do all the vampires in their sireline."

Liza's brow furrowed, absorbing the weight of his words. "Wait," she said slowly. "You're telling me that if one of you dies, every vampire you ever turned–and everyone they turned–dies with you?"

Rebekah nodded, watching her carefully. "Precisely."

Ollie's bottom lip dropped a bit. "Damn. So, what, thousands of vampires are walking around, basically tied to your survival?"

Klaus smirked, though there was little humor in it. "Try tens of thousands."

Liza's stomach twisted. "And you think...what? That if I do whatever it is you think I can do–if I make you human–you'll take them all down with you? Make them human too?"

Elijah exhaled slowly. "That is the question, isn't it?"

Silence settled over them, heavy with implication. The idea was absurd–impossible–yet here they were, discussing it as if it were a tangible thing.

Rebekah folded her arms, her gaze flicking to Klaus, then Elijah. "And if that's the case? If breaking our curse means breaking every sireline?" She hesitated just briefly, her voice quieter. "Would it be worth it?"

Klaus scoffed. "That depends on who you ask." His gaze flickered toward Liza, assessing. "Would you really be willing to unmake an entire species, love? Because that's what we're talking about."

Liza swallowed hard. "I didn't ask for this," she said, her voice quieter now, her grip tightening on her jacket sleeves. "I don't even know if I can do it."

"Ah, but the potential is there," Klaus countered, his tone smooth as silk. "Whether you asked for it or not, fate has seen fit to place this 'burden' upon your shoulders."

Elijah, ever the strategist, narrowed his eyes slightly. "The question we must ask ourselves isn't merely about the potential danger to our sirelines," he began, his voice laced with a hint of caution. "We must consider the possibility that these sirelines are a form of leverage."

Ollie was the first to connect the dots. She shifted forward, her elbows resting on her knees, her voice laced with something sharp. "Not all vampires will want to be human again."

The room fell into a heavy silence.

Liza blinked, her stomach flipping again. "What?"

Ollie gestured vaguely between the Mikaelsons. "You're sitting here debating whether or not Liza can actually do this, but have you thought about what happens if the wrong people find out? If she can unmake vampires, then every single one who likes being what they are–who thrives off immortality, blood and power–will come after her to make sure it never happens."

Rebekah inhaled sharply. Klaus' smirk thinned, amusement slipping into something more serious. Elijah, though composed, visibly tensed. His dark eyes met Liza's, steady but searching.

She held his gaze, her pulse a steady drumbeat in her ears. "So what you're saying," she began, her voice quieter now, edged with something close to fear, "is that it's not just your enemies I have to worry about."

Elijah exhaled slowly. He didn't want to scare her, but he couldn't lie to her either. "No," he admitted, careful, measured. "If word of your potential spreads, you will not only be pursued by those who see us as enemies. Indeed, there will be others–vampires who have no desire to lose what they are. Those who would do anything to make sure you never have the chance to use your power."

Klaus let out a short, humorless laugh, shaking his head. "Bloody brilliant."

Rebekah's jaw tightened. "And that's if we even want to go through with it," she muttered, hesitation flickering in her heart-shaped face.

The weight of the truth settling between them like an unspoken foreboding–this was bigger than all of them. And no matter what choice they made, there would be consequences.

Liza swallowed, glancing between them. "That's the real question, isn't it? If this is even worth the risk."

The Mikaelsons fell into an uncharacteristic silence.

Elijah's gaze dropped momentarily, thoughts turning inward. For a thousand years, he had believed himself and his family cursed to this existence. And now–now there was a chance. A possibility. But at what cost?

Rebekah's fingers curled against her arm, the weight of her own longing pressing against her chest. She had dreamed of this–of a real life, a human life–but now that it was staring her in the face, it felt...unreal.

Klaus, ever stubborn, leaned back in his chair, studying Liza with an intensity she had to look away from. He had never wanted to be human again. But the more they spoke, the more a different concern gnawed at the edges of his mind. Liza could possibly undo him. And if she did, what would she make of him? A vampire no longer. But not human, either. A werewolf. His jaw clenched. That was a reality he hadn't been prepared to face. They had invited Liza seeking answers, but now, they were the ones who had to decide.

Was it worth it?

The room seemed to hold its breath, the possibilities hovering in the air like a held violin note. Elijah's gaze returned to Liza, taking in the distress etched in her features, her uncertainty palpable. He could not deny the allure of hope, but he also knew better than most that hope was a precarious thing.

"Would you want to go back?" he said, his voice barely more than a murmur, yet the words resounded with the impact of a shout. His gaze moved to his siblings, gauging their reactions, the subtle shifts in their bodies that betrayed their thoughts.

Rebekah's lips parted slightly, but no words came. She looked down, fingers tightening where they rested on her wrist. The answer was obvious–yes. More than anything. But saying it aloud? Admitting it in front of her brothers? That was different.

Klaus scoffed, having a drink, but there was something forced about the way he did it. "And be weak again? Mortal? No thanks." His grip on the glass was just a little too tight. "I rather like being what I am."

Elijah wasn't fooled. "Do you?"

Klaus' smirk was razor-sharp. "More than I'd like dying of consumption at thirty-five, I assure you."

Having held her breath, Rebekah finally exhaled, her voice quieter, but certain. She didn't look at her brothers. "I do want it…" The words hung there, raw and unguarded. "I don't care about power or being untouchable. I never have." Her gaze then slid toward Liza, wary. "But that doesn't mean I trust this is even possible."

Liza, who had been silent through their deliberation, tensed. "Yeah, well, same."

Ollie pressed her lips together, hands clasped as she glanced between them all. "We can argue all night, but the fact is? You don't actually know what'll happen." She turned to Liza. "And you don't either."

Elijah nodded slightly, as if conceding the point. "Which is why we must proceed with caution. We cannot rush into this blindly."

Klaus chuckled under his breath. "Says the man who brought her into our lives with nothing but a psychic's word."

Liza's patience snapped. "Yeah? And you're the one who pushed me until I blew up a lightbulb in my own apartment, so maybe both of you should shut the hell up."

A beat of crackling silence. A sconch flickered once.

Then–Klaus grinned, noticing the light. "Fair point, love." Elijah noticed the light too, his eyebrow raising.

Rebekah sighed, wringing her hands together. "Alright. So what now? Do we just sit on our hands and wait for another vision to tell us what to do?"

Elijah shook his head. "No. We need to uncover the full extent of Liza's power. Carefully. Strategically." His gaze settled on her, steady, unyielding. "And if you are willing, we will help you." His words were softer, this time.

Liza inhaled shakily. They were offering her protection, guidance–but also binding her to them.

Ollie's voice was soft, but firm. "It's your choice, Liza."

Liza exhaled through her mouth, staring down at her hands. After a long moment, she looked up. "…Okay."

Elijah nodded. For a man of countless lifetimes, he had seen the rise and fall of empires, the birth and death of countless dreams. But this moment–this promise of something almost biblical, a gift to an otherwise unworthy family such as his own–seemed to breathe fresh air into the stale, towering halls of cold eternity and blurred centuries.

Before the room could settle into an uneven silence again, Elijah spoke with a voice that resonated in his chest, "It is settled, then. We shall work together, learn, and prepare–for both the challenges and the possibilities this journey may present."

Ollie stretched her arms over her head before letting them fall along the back of the velvet couch. Her dark eyes went toward Klaus' glass, the amber liquid swirling lazily as he tilted it back.

"Well," she said, dragging the word out, "since we're all being civilized and talking about destiny and existential dilemmas–" she made a dramatic gesture with her hand, "–I could use a drink."

Klaus smirked, his gaze cutting to her with clear amusement. "Ah, so the little wolf wants to indulge?" He leaned forward to the low table, pouring himself another glass before raising the decanter. "Bourbon?"

Ollie shrugged. "Sure."

Klaus chuckled, pouring her a generous measure before standing and bringing it over himself. He held out the glass but didn't hand it over immediately. Instead, he tilted his head, studying her. "You seem rather at ease for someone in a room full of supposed monsters."

Ollie took the glass from him without hesitation, fingers brushing against his briefly. His hand was warm. "You are monsters." She took a sip, letting the warmth settle in her chest before meeting his gaze with an easy smirk. "But so am I."

Klaus' grin deepened, something bright flickering behind his eyes. "I do enjoy a woman with bite."

Liza rolled her eyes, barely suppressing a groan. "I need a cigarette." She pushed up from the couch, reaching into her purse for her pack. "Where can I–"

Elijah was already standing. "Allow me," he said, voice obliging as ever. "The courtyard should suffice."

Liza hesitated for half a second before sighing. "Okay."

She followed Elijah as he led the way, her boots tapping against the polished floor as they moved through the grand house. The energy of the room lingered behind her–Ollie and Klaus proceeded to have a back-and-forth charged with something she wasn't sure she wanted to analyze, and Rebekah was watching it all with the air of a sister who had seen this dance before, much to her chagrin.

As Elijah opened a set of glass paneled double doors leading to the courtyard, the cool afternoon air wrapped around Liza, offering a brief but necessary respite.

The courtyard was nothing short of breathtaking–an oasis tucked away, untouched by time. Cobblestone paths wound through lush greenery, ivy curling along the brick walls of the estate, as if nature itself had claimed the space as its own. A long, narrow fountain stretched down the center, flanked by intricately carved stone lions.

The water trickled in a steady, rhythmic murmur, bright blue from the lights glowing beneath. Other sculpted figures adorned the space, watching over the garden like silent guardians. Flowers bloomed in deliberate chaos–reds, oranges, and deep greens bursting through the carefully manicured flower beds, a blend of elegance and untamed beauty. A wrought-iron spiral staircase curled up one side of the courtyard, leading to a secluded entrance, while trellises woven with vines arched overhead, making the space feel almost otherworldly.

Liza momentarily forgot why she had even come outside in the first place. Her boots scuffed against the cobblestone as she turned slowly, taking in the quiet splendor. The air smelled of damp earth and rich floral notes, mixing with the faintest trace of clove lingering from inside before Elijah closed the doors behind them. It was surreal–this place, this moment, this entire situation.

She pulled a cigarette from her pack, placing it between her lips as she flicked her lighter, which worked this time. As she inhaled, the smoke curled upward, dissipating into the cool night air. The nicotine was a much-needed headchange, biting the back of her mouth

"Shit," she muttered, exhaling slowly. "You guys really don't do anything small, do you?"

Elijah regarded her with a thoughtful gaze, his eyes flickering momentarily to the cigarette between her fingers. Though her nailpolish was chipped, the way she held her cigarette was elegant in a way that suited her, just like her jacket and boots suited her. He watched too fixedly how her lips pucked at the end of the butt before he forced himself to look away. He tucked his hands into his pockets.

"Appearances can be deceptive," he offered by way of response, his voice low but clear, a rich cadence that gently cut through the mid evening. "Much of our world is a dance of light and shadow, of what is seen and what remains hidden."

His eyes lingered on Liza's silhouette against the pale glow of the courtyard lights, assessing.

Liza arched her brow, looking at him without fully facing him, with those kohl-lined eyes of hers. The makeup made her irises stand out, a rich brown. "So where are you? What side of the spectrum?"

Elijah's own eyes were unblinking, unreadable. His hands slid from his pockets, one lingering near his side, the other adjusting his cuff nonchalantly.

"I am the balance between them." His voice was cool, each word deliberate. "I protect my family with whatever means necessary. Sometimes that requires darkness, and sometimes it calls for the light. I know that you are afraid, Liza. It's natural." Especially considering who they were, what they were capable of. It was impossible for a human to truly fathom how much blood they'd spilled in a thousand years.

Liza blinked, not answering right away. She pretended to not be taken aback by the observation by flicking the ash from the tip of the cigarette.

"Of course I am," she confessed with a scoff. She wasn't able to hide her turmoil behind the same confidence Ollie had. "I'm afraid of being involved with your family. Potentially wiping out your species."

Elijah breathed softly, nodding. "Yes," he said, the word drifting between them.

She casted him a sidelong glance, wondering if he wanted to know how she felt about him.

"Am I afraid of you?" she went on. "No...If you wanted to harm me, you would've done it by now."

Elijah's bottomless eyes never left Liza's. "You're right," he said, voice steady. "If I intended to harm you, I would have." He took a step closer, closing the space between them half way. "But your fear...you have a chance to channel it, find courage through it."

Liza turned her head slowly to look up at him again. He sounded wise. He was wise. He might've looked to be in his twenties, but his eyes held an unfathomable age. "So, what, you're suggesting I use fear to unlock my magic?" she said, more of a statement.

Elijah's gaze didn't waver. "I'm suggesting," he said pointedly, "that you understand and acknowledge your fears. They are a part of you, Liza. Ignoring them will only make them more potent. Facing them, understanding them–that's when you can harness their power."

He stepped back, giving her space again. His hands returned to his pockets as he glanced around the courtyard. "Magic is emotion, Liza. Your fear is a key. Use it, and the power will flow."

Now Liza rolled her eyes and laughed dryly. "Thank you for the advice, Yoda," she said. She was relieved that he stepped away from her. But her heart skipped a beat regardless. She tried to ignore it.

Elijah raised an eyebrow, bemused by her reaction. He could hear the uptick in her heart rate–a rhythm of unease and, perhaps, a hint of... No, surely she was too guarded for that right now.

"Yoda is a creature of wisdom," he pointed out, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "You could do worse for advisors. But you're right. I won't lecture you any further. I apologize.
Liza looked for somewhere to put out her cigarette, speaking as she did so. "I need to do it on my own. Figure out my magic. My...grandma always said...to use my intuition."

She spotted what looked like a fancy stone garbage can, went to it. After snuffing the cigarette butt against the lip, she tossed it in.

As she returned to Elijah, stepping slowly, her expression was shadowed, not wanting to show emotion on the topic of her grandmother. "Let me do it myself," she said, not asking. "Okay? The more people tell me what and how to do things, the more I don't want to do anything."

Elijah nodded, understanding the seriousness of expectation and its pressures. "Very well, Liza," he replied gently. "I respect your need for autonomy. It is your journey to take. I won't dictate its course, and I'll ask the others to refrain from doing so as well." There was true sincerity in his eye contact. "But know this: no matter how you choose to navigate it, we're here to help if and when you need it. You don't walk alone in this."

Liza held Elijah's gaze a second longer than she meant to, then exhaled sharply, shaking her head as if physically ridding herself of the feeling he elicited. "Okay. Fine," she muttered, tugging on her jacket sleeves. "Uh, thank you."

Elijah inclined his head, ever composed. "Shall we return inside?"

She nodded, and together they stepped through the courtyard's archway back into the house. The warmth of the interior wrapped around them, a contrast to the crisp night air, the distant sounds of conversation greeting them.

In the parlor, Klaus was leaning back in his chair, legs spread, his characteristic smirk pulling one side of lips as he regarded Ollie, thoroughly amused. "So tell me, love," he drawled, sipping his drink, "what exactly is your pack like? A noble brotherhood of warriors? Or just a ragtag group of mutts playing at unity?"

Ollie, still perched on the couch, tilted her head at him, deadpan. She had a swallow of her own bourbon. "You must be really insecure to need to act this smug all the time."

Rebekah snorted, not even looking up from her phone.

Klaus chuckled. "Oh, I like you."

Ollie made a half-repulsed, half-reluctantly amused face. Elijah and Liza stepped into the room, drawing their attention. Elijah's gaze flickered to Klaus, a silent warning to behave. Liza hesitated only briefly before dropping onto the couch next to Ollie.

It was Rebekah who finally broke the lull, slipping her phone into her pocket with a sigh. "As entertaining as this is, we have more pressing concerns."

Klaus let out a breath, rolling his eyes. "Yes, yes, the grand existential crisis of whether or not we want to become human again. Riveting."

Elijah didn't sit down and kept standing once more. Unspoken words were exchanged between him and Rebekah.

Klaus arched a brow. "Oh? Do tell."

Elijah's gaze moved between them, deliberate. "Marcel."

The name landed heavily in the room. Rebekah stiffened just slightly. Klaus' smirk faded into something hard to pinpoint–exasperation? Even Liza and Ollie, who had yet to meet him, could feel the weight of it whoever this Marcel guy was.

Liza frowned, glancing between them. "Who's Marcel?"

Ollie, picking up on the shift in energy, crossed her arms. "Yeah, judging by the sudden tension, I'm guessing he's someone important."

Rebekah sighed. "You could say that."

Klaus was serious for once. "Marcel is an old friend. A protégé, even. I took him in when he had nothing, raised him to be more than just another nameless face in a crowd. Then I turned him." He sipped his drink, eyes gleaming with a conflicting mix of pride and resentment. "And now, he's got himself a cozy little position on Chicago's vampire council. A rather powerful one, at that."

Liza glanced at Ollie. "Vampire council?" the former repeated. Both of them knew of the council, but all supernatural creatures in the city did, even if Liza wasn't involved in a coven.

Elijah inclined his head. "They oversee vampire affairs, ensure order is maintained." He paused before adding, "Marcel has influence there."

Ollie scoffed. "So, he's like...a politician?"

Klaus chuckled. "More like head of Public Relations, as we've learned. And if he knew what Liza might be capable of, he'd have a vested interest in ensuring certain...outcomes."

Liza narrowed her eyes. "And by outcomes, you mean whether or not I actually go through with this."

Elijah's gaze met hers, steady like always, not wanting the air to spike with her alarm again. "Marcel is on good terms with us–for now. But if he perceives your abilities as a threat, or worse, if others in the council do, it complicates things."

Rebekah steeled her expression, not wanting to reveal any trace of history with Klaus' progeny, any hint of emotion. "It means we have to decide whether to tell him before he finds out on his own."

Ollie frowned. "So, what? If you guys turn human, he loses a couple of allies? What's the big deal?"

Silence stretched between them before Elijah spoke, voice calm but grave. "The big deal, as you put it, Ollie, is that Marcel operates within a world where power is everything to him. If he learns we may willingly relinquish ours, he may see it as gaining the upper hand over us. Or, on the off chance, he will happily follow us into the lake to be rid of his own immortal burdens."

Liza felt a slow dread settle in her stomach. "And if he doesn't?"

Klaus smirked. "Then we'll see exactly where his loyalties lie."

"Let's just say," Rebekah interjected, her tone wry, "Marcel's idea of loyalty is...flexible. It has changed throughout the decades."

"So, you're saying he could just stab you in the back?" Ollie asked. She looked almost intrigued by the complicated drama.

Klaus chuckled. "More likely he'd stab me from the front, with a smile on his face."

Elijah exhaled slowly, finally revealing the toll that the weight of the conversation had on him. "The point is," he continued, tone measured, nevertheless, "we must be deliberate in how and when we approach Marcel with this."

Rebekah snorted, arms crossed. "Well, that's already a mess."

Liza narrowed her eyes. "Why?" she said slowly.

Rebekah threw Klaus a pointed look. Klaus, ever the picture of smug satisfaction, took another sip of his drink before answering. "Because our dear brother already let the cat out of the bag."

Elijah's already-sharp jaw tensed, his patience wearing thin.

Ollie leaned forward. "Wait, what?"

Elijah leveled Klaus with a look of tremulous restraint. "A few days ago, we met with Marcel at his condo. It was supposed to be a simple reunion." His voice was clipped, tense. "But then Klaus, as always, took it upon himself to share information that did not need to be shared."

Klaus spread his hands, feigning innocence. "Oh, come now, Elijah. You act as if I had a choice. You weren't going to tell me, and I was forced to pry it out of you. Just so happened to be in front of Marcel." He leaned back, eyes gleaming with amusement. "Why should he be kept in the dark, really? He's family, after all."

Liza's stomach twisted further. "What exactly does he know?"

Elijah's gaze darkened. "Enough. Klaus told him about Benny. That the boy reached out to me, that a spirit, your grandmother, spoke through him. I had no choice but to explain the rest–how that spirit led me to you."

Ollie spread her arms, glancing at Liza, worried. "So, what, he knows everything now?"

Rebekah scoffed. "Hardly. But he's smart enough to put the pieces together." She glanced at Klaus. "Which means he's probably already wondering if we're keeping something bigger from him. You've always left him out of important matters."

Liza swallowed, raising her hand to twirl a strand of hair. "And if he figures it all out?"

Elijah looked at her, at her fingers wringing the strand, a telltale sign of renewed anxiety. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do about it. "If Marcel perceives a potential threat–whether to his position, our family, or the balance of power in the supernatural world–he'll act. It's in his nature. We can't risk underestimating his ambition or the lengths he'll go to secure what he believes is best."

Rebekah's eyes narrowed. "What we need to decide is how we play this. Do we tell him the truth? Keep him close and see how he responds? Or do we try to keep it under wraps and risk him finding out some other way?"

Ollie shifted in her seat, glancing between them. "Okay, but what exactly are you afraid he's gonna do? He's on good terms with you guys, right?"

Klaus let out a short chuckle, swirling his drink. "Oh, love, that depends on the day. Marcel is loyal...but only to what serves him best. Right now, it's the Vampire Council of Chicago." His smirk faded slightly, sharpness settling behind his gaze. "If he thinks what we're doing puts him in danger, he won't hesitate to cut us off at the knees."

Liza's grip on her hair stilled, pulling the strand taut, like a string on a violin carrying a shrill note. "So, if he finds out I could–hypothetically–undo all of your lives, you think he'd try to stop me?"

Elijah couldn't sugarcoat it. "Possibly yes."

Rebekah sat back, arms crossed. "And if he doesn't try to stop you, he'll try to use you, your magic, your potential–to keep you on a short leash."

Ollie frowned as she looked at her friend, knew how panicked Liza was with her hair twirling. "So, Liza screwed either way."

Liza pressed her fingers to her temples, feeling as if the walls were closing in on her, her breathing short and tense. She had barely begun to accept what she might be capable of, and now she had to consider whether a vampire she'd never met might see her as either a personal weapon or a threat.

Elijah continued to watch her, his expression faltering, inhaling her emotion, which stirred his protectiveness before he could stop it. "The question isn't just what he might do–it's what we're prepared to do if he makes a move against us," he said with barely veiled determination.

Klaus smirked. "Now we're talking, brother."

Rebekah shot him a look before focusing back on Elijah. "So, what's the plan, Elijah? Do we tell him and try to control the narrative, or do we keep this between us for as long as possible?"

Liza finally looked up, her expression raw and full of poorly restrained emotion. "I don't suppose there's an option where we just pack up and pretend this never happened?"

Klaus slowly shook his head, not actually remorseful. "'Fraid not, love."

Elijah's gaze flickered between his siblings before settling on Liza. "Then the choice is clear. We keep this to ourselves. For now."

The decision hung in the air, fragile but final. But even as the conversation moved forward, Liza couldn't shake the feeling that they had just started a countdown–one that, sooner or later, would run out. The countdown ticked with her beating heart, almost painfully.

"With what Marcel knows so far–would he be curious?" she asked slowly. "About...me?"

"Curious?" Elijah echoed, the corners of his mouth curled downward. "Yes. But curiosity alone isn't a threat–yet."

Klaus leaned back in his chair, a roguish smirk playing at his lips. "Marcel's always been curious when it comes to things that could shift the balance of power. And yes, we have excluded him from many a scheme. But as it stands, he doesn't know enough to be dangerous."

Rebekah tapped her nails against the armrest of her chair, her face pinched. "He knows Benny contacted you, that there was a spirit involved. But he doesn't know about the dream, in the Lake, about what Liza might be capable of."

Elijah nodded curtly, raising his chin. "Which is exactly how it needs to stay." His voice was firm, decisive. "Right now, Marcel is kept at bay. As long as he sees us as allies rather than liabilities, he'll keep his distance. But if he suspects that Benny's message was about more than just a vague warning? If he realizes that this could mean an end to vampirism itself?"

Liza groaned a little, looking away. "Then I become a much bigger problem."

"Fuck," Ollie muttered, arms crossed.

Klaus watched the amber liquid in his glass catch the light. "We keep him where he is–helpful, but uninformed." His smirk turned razor-sharp. "For now."

Elijah exhaled slowly. "Agreed. We'll ensure Marcel learns nothing more." His attention turned back to Liza. "Which means you'll need to be careful," he said gently. "If he ever does take an interest in you, you mustn't give him a reason to pry further."

Liza's fingers twitched, the urge to touch her hair returning, but she resisted and instead clenched her hands in her lap. "Great. So now I have to worry about avoiding vampire politics on top of everything else?"

Elijah frowned. "But you're not alone in this, Liza. We will ensure your safety."

"And if Marcel does become a problem? Well, I have my ways of dealing with him," Klaus assured dangerously. Ollie raised a brow.

Rebekah shot a pointed look at Klaus. "No offense, brother, but your 'ways' usually involve murder and mayhem." She turned to Liza, her tone softening marginally. "We will handle Marcel. You just focus on understanding your powers."
Liza nodded, barely assured.

Ollie shifted in her seat, arms crossed. "What about the werewolves?" she asked, glancing between Klaus and Elijah. "My pack?"

Klaus' smirk barely wavered, but there was a glint of something more serious in his eyes. "Let's not test their loyalty, love. You may trust them, but that doesn't mean we should."

Elijah inclined his head. "Yes. The fewer people who know, the better."

Ollie's jaw tightened, but she gave a short nod. "I won't say anything."

Rebekah looked at Liza. "And the witches? They're the ones most likely to notice something magical."

Liza shook her head immediately. "No one will notice anything because I don't talk to them." She exhaled, keeping herself grounded by pressing her nails into her palms until she felt a dull pain. "There's a Slavic coven here, but I haven't spoken to them in years. I don't get their newsletters, I don't attend their little gatherings. I want nothing to do with them."

Rebekah arched a brow, not convinced. "That won't stop them from poking their noses where they don't belong. Witches always have a way of knowing things they shouldn't."

Elijah pointedly intervened before Liza could wonder if his sister's words inadvertently included her. "Then we ensure they have no reason to take an interest. Until we understand what Liza is truly capable of, we keep this from them as well."

Liza let out a hallow laugh, shaking her head. "Let's see how it goes."

"Yes," Elijah said. "For now, this knowledge stays within our circle. It's the only way to ensure your safety and prevent potential panic or interference."

Klaus smirked, waving a hand nonchalantly. "And anyone who threatens that safety will be swiftly dealt with."

Rebekah rolled her eyes. "Yes, yes, you're very scary, Nik. Can we move on?"

Ollie leaned back into the velvet couch, stretching her arms along the backrest again. "Well, well," she mused, shooting Liza a sideways glance. She couldn't stand to see her glowering like that. "Looks like you can't run from this one, huh?"

Liza groaned, slouching in her seat. "Don't start, Olympia."

But Ollie wasn't about to let the moment pass. "No, really. After all these years of pretending you're just some normal girl, dodging the Slavic coven, refusing to even acknowledge your magic–now you've got the Original vampires invested in your 'potential.'" She wiggled her fingers dramatically. "What a twist."

Liza gave her a deadpan look. "You're enjoying this way too much."

Ollie smirked. "Just a little. But seriously," she added, her expression becoming tender, "I'm with you, Liza. No matter how crazy this gets." She shot a glance at the Mikaelsons. "Even if it means dealing with them."

Klaus grinned. "Oh, I think you'll find my company quite tolerable, darling."

Ollie half-smiled, half-grimaced. "Debatable."

Liza huffed. "This is my worst nightmare."

Elijah watched the banter unfold, his lips quirking slightly in amusement, but it was brief. "I suspect we all agree that Liza's safety is paramount," he interjected smoothly. "However, that requires cooperation on all ends."

Klaus smirked, finishing his drink in one smooth motion. "Meaning, no one does anything stupid."

Rebekah cocked her head. "Coming from you, Nik? That's rich."

Liza sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Look, I get it. I do. If we're doing this–if I'm involved whether I like it or not–then I need to be smart about it." She sighed tensely, then glanced at Ollie. "I'll figure out how to magically ward our apartment. Keep anyone–or anything–from waltzing in uninvited."

Ollie perked up at that. "Wait, you can do that?"

Liza hesitated, then gave a small shrug. "In theory, yes."

Rebekah's brows lifted. "And what exactly do you plan to use? A hopeful prayer and a salt circle?"

Liza's lips pressed together before she muttered, "I have a grimoire."

Silence stretched for a beat.

Klaus grinned, tilting his head. "Oh, do you now?"

Liza shifted under the sudden attention, regretting saying anything. "It was my grandmother's," she admitted begrudgingly. "I've had it for years, but I never really...used it. I skimmed through it when I was younger, but after–" she hesitated, choosing her words carefully, "–after everything, I just shoved it in a box and left it there."

Elijah studied her, his gaze catching the subtle flicker of something–guilt, maybe, or something deeper. "And yet, you still have it."

Liza glanced at Ollie. "I'll dig it out tonight, find a spell."

Ollie, ever the optimist, grinned. "Look at you, embracing the witch life. Grandma would be so proud."

Liza shot her a bemused glare. Her best friend had a way of lightening the mood, relieving the pressure Liza felt, even slightly. "Don't push it."

Elijah considered Liza's revelation, his expression brightening. "A grimoire," he echoed, thoughtfully. "That could prove invaluable."

Klaus leaned forward, a gleam of interest sparking in his eyes. "I agree. And with a witch's lineage in the mix, I'd wager there must be something of use in there."

Rebekah crossed her legs, drumming her nails against on her thigh. "Then it's settled. You'll dig through your little book of spells, figure out how to keep unwanted guests from barging into your home, and in the meantime, we'll continue working on how to ensure no one else catches wind of this." She glanced at Elijah, then Klaus. "Which means we should meet again. Tomorrow."

Liza blinked. "Tomorrow?"

Klaus grinned. "Yes, love. Sundays are rather dull, aren't they? Perfect for another little chat."

Liza shook her head. "Yeah, no. I have work. Which, by the way, I kind of need to keep. You know, for money?"

Klaus waved a hand dismissively. "That's hardly an obstacle. I could compel your boss into giving you the day off. Problem solved."

Liza shot him a look. "Yeah, that's not happening."

Elijah sighed. "You had no issue when I did it."

"That was different," Liza countered. "That was because I just found out Benny died. I actually need my job. I can't have you two compelling my manager every time something comes up. I'd rather not get fired."

Rebekah huffed, looking at her nails. "So what's your solution, then? We don't exactly have weeks to figure this out."

Ollie raised a hand. "I'm off. I can come."

Liza turned to her. "And what, you're going to take notes for me?"

"I could," Ollie offered, smug. "You're the one trying to balance magic and retail. Maybe you should consider your priorities."

Klaus chuckled. "She has a point."

Liza groaned. "Ugh. Fine."

Elijah nodded. "It would be ideal if you're able to not delay coming here." Then, his gaze softened slightly. "But if you find that isn't possible, Liza, it's all right."

Liza sighed. "Okay. I'll try."

"Good," Klaus said. "Then that just leaves the matter of your oversized dog."

Liza stiffened. "Ramses stays with us."

"Oh, perfect," Klaus declared, his face lighting up with something dangerously close to enthusiasm. "I like that beast."

Liza blinked, momentarily thrown. "Wait–what?"

"You heard me, love. He's a fine animal. Smart, good instincts. Loyal." Klaus smirked. "He growled at Elijah first, which means he has impeccable judgment."

Elijah shot him an unimpressed look.

Ollie laughed. "Well, that settles it. Ramses' coming."

Rebekah rolled her eyes. "Oh, for God's sake, it's just a dog."

Klaus tsked at her. "Just a dog? That 'dog' has more character than half the people in this city." He leaned back, satisfied. "Bring him. He'll fit right in."

Liza crossed her arms, still wary but ultimately out of arguments. "Fine. If I can get my shift covered, we'll bring Ramses. But if anyone so much as looks at him wrong..."

Elijah inclined his head in acknowledgment of Liza's terms. "If you can arrange your schedule, Liza, then we can reconvene here tomorrow midday. However, the earlier, the better." He locked gazes with her, ensuring she understood the gravity of their situation.

Liza sighed, rubbing her temple. "Yeah, yeah. I'll see what I can do."

Ollie, meanwhile, was still grinning. "I can't get over this. Klaus is obsessed with a dog he met once."

Klaus smirked, thoroughly enjoying himself. "What can I say? The creature has excellent instincts."

"Yeah, yeah," Ollie snickered. "Big scary hybrid, secretly a dog person. This is my favorite revelation yet."

Klaus leaned back, raising a brow. "Careful, darling. Keep talking like that, and I'll think you're flirting."

Ollie rolled her eyes, but Liza caught the way she bit back a smirk.

Elijah exhaled slowly, ever the composed one. "I'll see you both out."

Liza was already getting up and heading toward the door, muttering, "This entire situation is ridiculous." She couldn't wait to get back home, back to a familiar setting, to not be in this "borrrowed" museum of a house that exuded an imposing atmosphere beneath its refinery.

Ollie followed, still highly amused. As they stepped past Klaus, he sent her a slow, deliberate wink. She scoffed, shaking her head, but there was undeniable amusement in her eyes. "Unbelievable."

Elijah, ever the gentleman, walked Liza and Ollie to the front door. His manners were impeccable, a stark contrast to Klaus' flirtatious antics.

Liza tugged her purse strap securely to her side as she walked out onto the front steps, the cool night air brushing against her skin. The Mustang was parked just ahead, its silver exterior catching the dim glow of the setting sun. She exhaled, glancing over her shoulder at Elijah, who stood in the doorway like a sentinel, composed as ever.

"Good...night, then," she said, hesitant.

Ollie, ever the contrasting one, shot Elijah a mock salute before linking her arm through Liza's and pulling her toward the car. "Good night, Mister Mikaelson," she quipped, then tossed a glance back at the house. "And do remind your brother that a charming smile won't save him if he ends up on the wrong side of my teeth."

Elijah merely inclined his head, unruffled, but Liza caught the faint twitch of his lips—amusement, or perhaps mild exasperation.

As they walked away, he lingered in the doorway, ensuring they reached the car safely. Klaus approached behind him, watching as Ollie slid into the driver's seat.

"The wolf's got bite," he said, smirking. "I do enjoy a challenge."

Elijah turned to look at his brother. "Must you?" he said tediously.

Klaus sauntered beside him, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "She has a certain charm, I admit. For a werewolf, she's refreshingly not afraid to speak her mind."

"But remember, brother," Elijah cautioned, his tone becoming more serious now. "We mustn't lose sight of our primary goal. The prophecy, the power Liza possesses...That is our focus."

Klaus sighed dramatically. "Yes, yes, I'm well aware of our responsibilities."

Just as Elijah was about to delve into more serious matters, Klaus' mischievous grin returned. "Though, I must admit, the way Liza's friend looked at me? It was quite...satisfying."

Elijah's brow furrowed. "If it's more...dalliances you're after, Niklaus, I would caution you against involving yourself with her friend."

Klaus raised an eyebrow. "A lecture on romance from you? A bit rich, don't you think?"

Elijah remained stoic, but his expression hardened slightly. "This situation is already complicated enough, Niklaus. The last thing we need is for you to complicate it further with your fancies."

Klaus smirked, a knowing twinkle in his eyes. "Is it concern for the witch, or her friend, that fuels your caution, Elijah?"

Elijah met his brother's gaze evenly, choosing his words carefully. "It's concern for our family, brother. A sentiment I wish you would share in more."

Klaus' smirk deepened. He was clearly enjoying himself far too much. "Oh, but I do share in our family's concerns, Elijah. I just happen to notice when your concerns extend a little further than usual."

Elijah shot him a look, but Klaus was undeterred.

"You've always had a habit of getting...attached. The noble protector, the ever-devoted guardian." He tilted his head, gaze gleaming impishly. "Tell me, brother, is it merely duty that compels you? Or is there something about our reluctant little witch that's caught your interest?"

Elijah held Klaus' gaze, his eyes steady and unwavering. He would not admit to anything even as his brother goaded him. "My interests, as you put them, are solely focused on ensuring our family's safety." His voice was cool, brooking no further discussion.

Klaus chuckled, reveling in his role as instigator. "Ah, and here I thought it was the fire in our little witch's eyes that had you so captivated."

Elijah sighed, his patience wearing thin. "Your speculations are noted, Niklaus. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have preparations to make."

He turned to go inside the house, but Klaus' voice stopped him. "Oh, and Elijah?" The mirth in his brother's tone was unmistakable.

Elijah glanced over his shoulder, arching a brow in question. "Yes?"

Klaus grinned, raising his glass in a mock toast. "Do keep your wits about you, brother. With a pretty girl like that around, she might just make you forget all about duty and honor."

Elijah merely grunted in response, choosing not to grace his brother's comments with a verbal reaction. But as he walked away, Elijah couldn't help but allow himself a small, almost imperceptible smile. As much as he did not want to admit it to himself, there was something about Liza that he found alurring, a spark that not only threatened to complicate their mission but also to light something in him that had been dormant for centuries.

He moved through the hallway with measured steps, his brother's barbs lingering like that irritating smirk of his. Elijah should have dismissed his conclusions outright, let them roll off him like so many of his brother's provocations. But this time, Klaus had struck something raw beneath Elijah's carefully composed exterior.

Liza's presence remained with him—her scent, the nervous flicker of her fingers as she twisted her brown hair, the slight catch in her breath when she spoke. She had been holding herself together with sheer will, but he had seen the fractures beneath the surface, the tremor in her voice when she realized the scope of what they were facing. Her fear had been palpable, literally, woven into the air between them, and Elijah had wanted nothing more than to pull it from her, to assure her that she was not alone in this.

He exhaled, loosening his tie as he entered the study, but the tension remained coiled within him. Liza was no warrior, no battle-hardened supernatural creature accustomed to the force of ancient grudges and impending war. She was a woman who had been thrust into their world, left to navigate treacherous waters without much guidance. And yet—she did not break. Even when fear propelled her every movement, she stood her ground. Even as her gaze betrayed her uncertainty, she fought to hold her own through it.

It was a rare thing, resilience like that. Rarer still was the quiet vulnerability she had shown him, trusting him, even in the smallest of ways. It had been instinctive, the way he had reassured her—just as instinctive as the way something within him shifted, something not familiar anymore yet undeniable. Klaus had framed it as his twisted brand of entertainment, but Elijah knew better. This was not just about protecting their family, protecting her. It was something else, more. Something that, if Elijah were not careful, could unravel even their most carefully laid plans. And yet, as he sat down, pressing his fingers to his forehead, he could not bring himself to regret it.