September 1st, 1001 AD
The sun was high by the time Hayley and Klaus found themselves tangled together in his room. The light that poured through his window was warm and golden, spilling across the floor and catching in her hair as she lay draped across him like she belonged nowhere but right there.
Klaus traced idle shapes along the back of her hand, lips brushing her temple every so often as she giggled.
"You could stay forever," he murmured.
"You'd like that too much," she teased, snuggling closer — then her expression shifted into one of mild worry.
"I really do need to go home," she sighed. "My father is home, and you know what he's like if I'm not there."
Klaus's brow furrowed into a pout.
"Aww," he groaned. "Do you have to?"
"You could come," Hayley offered, chin tilted up playfully. "He can't do anything to me if you're there — my father is too fond of looking perfect in front of company."
That thought sparked a gleam in Klaus's eyes.
"You're serious?"
She grinned, already knowing she'd won him over.
"Mm-hm. Plus, I'd feel safer."
That was all it took — in an instant Klaus was up, hands reaching to pull her to her feet.
"Then let's go," he decided, lips brushing hers one more time before leading her downstairs.
The Labonair home was a grand thing — all polished wood and painted beams, a touch richer than the Mikaelsons' simple dwelling. Klaus felt it like a weight on his shoulders as Hayley led him through the front door.
"Mother," Hayley greeted warmly as Victoria appeared from the hearth, all graceful hands and kind eyes.
"My darling," Victoria replied, drawing Hayley into a gentle embrace before turning to Klaus.
"Ah — Niklaus. Good to see you," she said brightly.
"Mrs. Labonair," Klaus replied, bowing his head politely.
And then there was Alexander — broad and imposing like a darker version of his sons.
Klaus inclined his head, hands clasped properly behind his back as he greeted him.
"Sir."
Alexander merely offered a stiff grunt, eyes scrutinizing Klaus like a wolf does a stranger — sharp and vaguely threatening — but Klaus held his gaze and kept his face pleasant.
Garrett and Xavier were already lounging near the fire when they arrived.
"Alright, Klaus," Garrett grunted, grudgingly polite — clearly as skeptical as his father.
Xavier gave him a warm, lopsided smile.
"Klaus," he greeted casually.
And Klaus answered them in kind, easy and brotherly — putting on that practiced charm like a well-worn cloak.
"Garrett. Xavier," he nodded. "How've you both been?"
They exchanged a few casual remarks before Hayley tugged him toward the staircase with a conspiratorial grin.
The upstairs lounge was cozier, bathed in late-afternoon light.
Hayley eased the door mostly closed before dropping onto the padded divan with a sigh, patting the seat beside her. Klaus was quick to oblige.
For hours they talked — nothing serious, nothing weighty. Just the silly, sleepy sort of rambling that came from being so wrapped up in one another that the world outside ceased to matter. Every so often, Klaus would lean in to kiss her, careful and slow, and she'd smile into it, hands tangled in his hair.
And somewhere between one kiss and the next, they'd dozed off.
It was a light gasp that roused them — like a breath of delighted surprise — and Hayley blinked up sleepily as Klaus stirred, realizing they'd both fallen asleep wrapped up together.
"Oh," Victoria whispered from the top of the stairs, hands pressed to her lips in an irrepressible grin. "Oh my goodness — this is too precious."
"Mother," Hayley groaned softly, lifting her head.
"Oh no, darling," Victoria assured quickly, stepping closer with a wink. "No need to be embarrassed — this is lovely, really. I was just coming to check on you, and I see you're quite… comfortable."
Klaus chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Sorry, Mrs. Labonair. Didn't mean to overstay my welcome."
"Overstay?" Victoria laughed, her voice a warm hush. "Hardly. Just… do be cautious, hmm?" she added, a mother's knowing look in her eye as her gaze flicked toward the staircase. "Your father isn't home yet, Hayley, but he will be soon. Best not give him any reason to grow suspicious."
That sobered them all at once — Hayley sitting up straighter, Klaus instinctively reaching to smooth his tunic, the sleepy sweetness of their stolen moment fading into something a touch more careful.
"Yes, Mother," Hayley agreed softly.
Victoria smiled one last time before heading back downstairs, her light footsteps fading into quiet.
And Klaus and Hayley were left in the warm hush of the lounge — hands still tangled together, hearts still racing — reminded that whatever softness they'd carved out together could so easily be shattered by a single, angry glance.
Klaus finally slipped back through the front door of the Mikaelson home as the light outside began to deepen.
He paused in the foyer, letting out a breath before heading further in — immediately greeted by the familiar clatter of his siblings.
"Nick!" Rebekah called with a bright smile, smacking him lightly on the shoulder as she passed with Kol.
Kol grinned, mirroring her playful gesture.
"Back so soon? Don't tell me you left Hayley already," he teased, ducking when Klaus swung at him.
"Careful," Klaus laughed, feeling lighter than he had all day.
"Hi, Klaus," Henrik piped up, beaming up at him.
Klaus ruffled his hair fondly.
"Hey, Little Brother."
He glanced toward Finn across the room — Finn gave him a casual nod and a noncommittal grunt.
"Finn," Klaus acknowledged warmly.
"Nick," Finn replied in kind.
That was Finn for you — all polite distance, and yet it was comfortable enough.
But as Klaus climbed the stairs, his thoughts turned to Elijah.
He hesitated outside his brother's door for only a moment before knocking softly and letting himself in.
Elijah was seated on his bed, hands folded as he stared into the middle distance.
He looked up when Klaus stepped in and closed the door behind him.
"Okay," Klaus began without preamble, hands stuffed into his pockets, nerves prickling. "Look, about Hayley — I never meant to blindside you. Truly. And I'm sorry you had to find out like that."
He crossed the room and sat at the edge of the bed, voice earnest.
"You're one of my closest brothers — you and Rebekah. I don't want us to be distant or angry. I just want us to be okay again."
For a heartbeat, Elijah was quiet — gaze steady and unreadable — and then he let out a slow breath and smiled.
"You needn't worry," he assured him, his voice warm. "We'll be okay, Nik. I love you. You're my brother — I'll always love you."
The relief that rushed through Klaus was dizzying.
He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck before pulling Elijah into a tight embrace.
"Love you too," Klaus murmured.
When they pulled apart, there was a lightness between them again — the unspoken understanding that time would ease any sting.
And then Elijah gave him a playful smirk
"Care for a race?" he challenged suddenly. "I could use a bit of sport to clear my head."
Klaus's face broke into a grin.
"You're on," he agreed — already halfway to the door.
"Cheater," Elijah laughed, jumping to his feet after him.
Klaus whooped as he bounded down the stairs and out into the yard, Elijah close on his heels — their brief troubles melting into the warm thrill of sibling rivalry as they disappeared into the golden light outside.
The forest was painted silver under the light of the full moon, every leaf and branch gleaming like polished glass. Klaus crept silently through the underbrush, his breaths shallow with anticipation as the distant howls broke the hushed dark.
He'd come here so many nights before — drawn to the wild rhythm of the wolves, heart pounding with the strange knowing that one day, that call would stir his own blood.
And tonight was no different.
He crouched behind a fallen log, watching as the first of them appeared — great shapes prowling into the moonlight, bodies rippling as they shifted into beast and melted into the landscape.
Then—a soft snap of a twig.
Klaus whipped around.
"Henrik?" he hissed, eyes going wide.
His little brother froze, hands raised as if caught stealing bread.
"I wanted to come with you," Henrik whispered, inching closer.
Klaus grabbed him, pulling him into the shadow of a nearby tree.
"You shouldn't be here," he breathed. "If Father catches you—"
"I just want to see," Henrik cut in, eyes bright with boyish curiosity.
Klaus wavered, sighing before ruffling his hair.
"Fine," he murmured. "But stay close."
And for a fleeting moment, it was almost perfect — two brothers huddled together, watching the graceful shapes slip through the forest like specters, paws hardly stirring the grass.
Then Henrik shifted his weight.
Crack.
The sound of the branch underfoot was like a whipcrack in the night.
Every wolf froze.
Dozens of golden eyes snapped toward them.
"Run," Klaus hissed, shoving Henrik backward as the first of the beasts surged toward them.
And they ran.
Branches whipped at their faces, breath rasping, hearts thundering as the wolves gave chase — dark, powerful shapes closing the distance.
Klaus's mind reeled. They're going for Henrik. Always going for him.
And so, he stopped.
He planted his feet, feeling some strange instinct rise up — some deeper part of him that had been waiting for this very moment.
And as the wolves lunged, they faltered.
Klaus stared them down, hands outstretched, unyielding.
"Enough," he growled — and for a fleeting second, they listened. One even skidded back, yelping as Klaus shoved it aside.
But the victory was short-lived.
A wolf broke off — a flash of silver and teeth — and went for Henrik.
Klaus saw it too late.
"Henrik!"
And then the forest was alive with the sound of tearing flesh and Henrik's strangled cry.
Klaus was on him in a heartbeat — hauling him up, fending off the circling shapes with wild strikes and savage shouts.
"Get away!" he roared, blood roaring in his ears as he sent another wolf sprawling.
And then, as if sensing some new and terrible power stirring in him, the rest of them stopped.
One of them met Klaus's gaze — something dark and knowing glimmering behind its golden eyes — before turning and melting into the shadows.
Klaus dropped to his knees, cradling Henrik's limp body against his chest.
"Please," he choked, pressing trembling hands to Henrik's wounds. Blood soaked his fingers, warm and slick and far too much.
"Henrik," Klaus whispered, rocking him, voice breaking.
"You have to stay with me, brother. Please. Please stay with me."
But Henrik's breaths were shallow, his chest torn and bleeding, eyes clouding.
Klaus didn't hesitate — he lifted him into his arms, heart aching as he stumbled to his feet and sprinted toward home. Every step was a prayer, every heartbeat a desperate plea that somehow, somehow, they weren't too late.
And the forest behind him fell into an eerie silence as the last echo of a wolf's howl vanished into the dark.
"Mother!" Klaus's scream shattered the quiet, his voice raw with panic as he stumbled into the lantern-lit yard.
"Mother, please!" he roared again, Henrik limp in his arms, his blood-soaked hands trembling.
In a blink, the front door of the family home flew open. Esther, Mikael, Rebekah, Kol, Finn — they all rushed into the moonlight at once.
"Oh my God," Esther gasped, hands flying to her mouth at the sight of her boy. "Henrik!"
"Please help him," Klaus begged, voice breaking as he dropped to his knees, gently laying Henrik on the grass.
Esther fell to her knees, gathering her baby into her arms as though she could will him back to life with sheer force of will.
"My baby," she sobbed, rocking him against her chest.
"Oh my baby boy, my sweet boy!"
Klaus's hands hung uselessly at his sides, painted red and slick with Henrik's blood.
He could hardly breathe as everyone crowded around — cries and gasps tangled into a single sound of devastation.
And then — far off — something moved.
Hayley.
She had heard the screams. Being a wolf gave her ears far keener than most; she'd felt her heart seize the moment the cries reached her.
She bolted up from the couch where she'd been sitting with her mother and flew across the dark forest as fast as her legs could take her.
When she finally burst into the yard, her eyes went wide at the scene before her: Henrik, limp; Esther weeping; Klaus knelt in the grass, hands trembling, shoulders shaking as he fought to hold himself together.
"Oh my God," Hayley breathed, a hand flying to her mouth before instinct took over.
Without hesitation, she crossed the distance and knelt behind Klaus, hands gentle as she pulled him back into her arms, cradling his head to her chest.
"Shh," she whispered, tears welling up as she pressed her cheek against his hair. "I'm here. It's okay. I'm here."
Klaus stared numbly at his hands — Henrik's blood glistening like a nightmare that wouldn't wash away — then turned into her, shoulders wracked with grief as he finally broke.
He clung to her like a lifeline, sobs tearing from him as she held him close.
Esther was frantically whispering chants under her breath, hands trembling as she hovered over Henrik's small, pale body, trying every spell she knew.
But nothing. Nothing was working.
"No," she choked, voice raw and aching. "No, please — Henrik, my sweet boy, come back to me."
Mikael, face a hard, unreadable mask as tears glimmered in his eyes, finally moved.
He grabbed Esther by the shoulders and pulled her up.
"Esther," he rasped, voice trembling.
"That spell. The one you spoke of. The one that could make them immortal."
Esther froze, breathless, eyes shimmering with terror and hope all at once.
"You mean—" she began.
"Yes," Mikael cut her off, gaze locked on Henrik's lifeless form.
"Now is the time."
And as the wind rustled the trees and carried their cries into the endless dark, a terrible, powerful decision was made.
The shed was massive, a cavernous wooden fortress hidden deep in the forest's edge. Shadows danced on the walls as the fire pit blazed fiercely in the center, casting flickering light on the gathered figures.
Esther stood tall, regal and resolute, beside Mikael — his face grim, eyes sharp as flint. Around them, the children—Finn, Elijah, Klaus, Kol, Rebekah—and Hayley, whose wolf senses hummed with nervous energy.
The air was thick with tension, every breath heavy like the calm before a storm.
Suddenly, the heavy door creaked open.
Tatia stepped inside, her doppelganger presence a strange, ethereal echo of the past. Esther smiled warmly, stepping forward to greet her.
"Thank you for coming, Tatia," Esther said, her voice like velvet laced with steel.
Michael's hand moved silently, the lock clicking shut with finality behind them.
Tatia's eyes narrowed as Esther raised a delicate hand toward her face, fingers brushing a mysterious pattern in the air. The faint glow of ancient runes shimmered beneath her skin.
"What... are you doing?" Tatia whispered, stepping back instinctively.
Esther's voice dropped to a chant, syllables curling like smoke from her lips.
"Vekara shion tal'thar, morwen yira nal'thar," she whispered — words older than time, dripping with arcane power.
Tatia froze, body stiffening, eyes glassy as if caught in invisible chains.
Esther stepped closer, hand extended. "Give me your hand."
Without resistance, Tatia offered her palm. Esther's fingers traced a sharp line, cutting into the flesh with a practiced grace. Blood welled and dripped into a small, ornate bowl set on a stone altar beside the fire.
Into the bowl, Esther added powdered bone from a raven's wing, crushed petals of the midnight rose, and a pinch of crushed quartz dust — ingredients shimmering with raw magical energy.
Raising her hand above the concoction, she breathed another incantation:
"Kaelthar yvren, solathir min'vara, dracilom thesun."
The liquid pulsed, glowing an eerie violet.
One by one, the gathered were handed the potion.
Hayley's eyes flicked toward Michael just as Klaus reached for the cup.
Michael's gaze hardened.
"You need to leave," he said, voice low but firm.
Hayley stood her ground.
"I'm not leaving. Whatever you do to them, you can do to me too."
Michael's eyes flickered, weighing the defiance, then—reluctantly—he nodded.
The potion was passed to Klaus, who drank deeply, eyes locking with Hayley's.
"Together," they whispered almost simultaneously.
Hayley followed, then Rebekah, then Michael himself, whose cold lips curled into a grim smile as he drank.
The fire roared, the room thick with an almost unbearable tension.
Then Michael's sword glinted in the firelight.
With deliberate calm, he stepped toward Klaus, plunging the blade deep into his heart. Klaus gasped, hands gripping the hilt, eyes wide in disbelief. It wasn't long after Mikael pulled out his sword that Klaus fell to the ground.
Hayley gasped, dropping to her knees beside him.
"No! What are you doing?" she pleaded, shaking him gently.
Klaus's eyes fluttered closed, his breath slowing to nothing.
One by one, Michael repeated the act, driving the sword through Rebekah, Finn, Elijah, and Kol.
Hayley stood, trembling, voice trembling with rage and desperation.
"Why would you do this?" she demanded.
Before she could move, Michael turned toward her, expression cold as ice.
"Because even werewolves must bow to the old blood."
With a swift motion, he pierced her heart.
She collapsed, her breathing ragged, the wolf within screaming against the mortal wound.
Michael straightened, voice low but chilling.
"I'll see you in a minute, Esther."
Without hesitation, he plunged the sword into his own chest.
As he fell, the firelight flickered violently — shadows dancing like ghosts as silence claimed the room.
The air was thick with the scent of blood and smoke, the dying fire casting faint orange shadows across the walls of the great shed.
One by one, groggy breaths stirred the heavy stillness. The world felt wrong — spinning, like the earth had tilted on its axis. Heads pounded. Hearts beat slow, unfamiliar thuds. Limbs felt heavier, stronger... cursed.
Hayley's eyes snapped open first. The weight of the world crashed down on her chest as she pulled in a ragged breath. Power thrummed beneath her skin — wild, untamed. She could feel it.
A shiver ran through her as she looked around — everyone but Esther and Tatia were out, all dead, all silent. But one figure stole her attention.
And then she realized… Klaus.
He still hadn't moved.
Panic knotted her chest as she reached out, hands trembling.
"Niklaus?" she breathed, her voice barely more than the whisper of wind through autumn leaves. Panic laced her tone. His body lay still, too still. His skin pale as the moonlight that barely crept through the cracks in the walls.
Hayley crawled to him, hands trembling as she cradled his face.
"Please... wake up. Come back to me," she whispered, voice cracking under the weight of her heart. A tear slipped down her cheek, falling onto his cold skin. "I love you. I love you, please, just come back…"
His face was deathly pale under her hands, but she felt the faintest flutter of life, like a storm stirring in the distance.
Nearby, Mikael stirred — the strength of immortality already hardening his features. He rose slowly, eyes narrowing as they found Hayley, curled over Klaus' body.
He moved to stand beside Esther, voice low, suspicious.
"Do you think something's happening between them?"
Esther watched the scene, her gaze sharp but unreadable.
"Nothing I knew of... but it certainly seems like it."
Before Mikael could reply, Klaus gasped — a harsh, desperate pull of air that echoed like a death rattle. His hand flew to his chest, as if to check the gaping hole that was no longer there.
Hayley let out a shaky breath of relief, her forehead resting lightly against his.
"Thank the gods," she whispered, voice soft as a prayer.
Around them, the others began to wake — Finn groaning, Kol blinking in confusion, Rebekah sitting up, hand to her spinning head. Elijah steadied himself with a hand on the floor, his sharp eyes immediately finding Klaus and Hayley, reading the moment before saying a word.
Esther's voice broke the fragile peace.
"Come. It is time."
With a firm tug, she dragged Tatia's motionless form closer. A silver blade flashed in the firelight, slicing clean through the tender flesh of Tatia's arm. Blood welled, dark and rich, the scent filling the room like the sweetest, most dangerous wine.
Esther shoved Tatia's arm toward Rebekah.
"Drink, child," she ordered.
Rebekah recoiled, face twisted in horror.
"No... no, I won't."
Mikael snarled, grabbing Rebekah's head and forcing it down.
"You will drink," he barked, the fury of centuries of control burning in his voice.
Rebekah resisted — until the scent hit her. The primal need awoke, a hunger deeper than anything she had known. With a sob, she gave in, drinking deep.
The others gasped, eyes wide with shock and horror as they watched their sister fall to the thirst.
But there was no escape. One by one, Mikael forced the blood upon them. Elijah, pale but stoic. Finn, grim. Kol, shaking but unable to stop himself. Klaus, hand still over his chest, drank without a word — his gaze never leaving Hayley.
And Hayley... Hayley took Tatia's wrist in her own hands, defiant, determined, and drank as well.
Finally, Mikael lifted the arm to his own lips, draining what he needed.
A long silence followed. And then... It began.
Their bodies tensed as the change rippled through them. Their eyes darkened — scleras turned blood red, irises black as the night, thick dark veins snaking beneath their lids like cracks in glass.
Hayley gasped as the world seemed to ignite in her veins. But when she caught sight of her reflection in a broken shard of iron — she froze.
Her scleras had gone black, deep and endless, her irises glowing gold like the heart of a wildfire. The mark of the beast within.
The siblings stared at each other, horror and awe mingling on their faces. Hands trembled as they reached up, feeling the strange, foreign veins beneath their eyes.
"What… what have we become?" Elijah murmured, voice hoarse.
Finn backed against the wall, breath ragged.
"This isn't natural… this isn't right…"
Rebekah's voice trembled. "The veins — I can feel them—"
Klaus touched his face, the veins retreating slowly as his breathing calmed. He looked at Hayley — her golden gaze locking with his.
They felt it. The curse. The power. The hunger.
The birth of monsters.
The night air felt different—sharper, heavier, filled with a thousand scents and sounds they'd never noticed before. It was like stepping into a dream that was too real, too vivid.
Klaus took a breath and froze. "Hayley…" he whispered, wide-eyed, "can you… can you hear that?"
Hayley tilted her head, her golden eyes wide with wonder. "The river… it's miles away." But it was clear as if it flowed beside them. And the heartbeat of a bird in the trees—she could hear it. She could feel it.
Kol, of course, grinned like a devil unleashed. "Bet I can run faster than all of you."
"Oh, please," Rebekah snorted, pushing him. "In your dreams."
But Kol was already gone—blurring so fast he startled even himself. "BLOODY HELL—"
A crash echoed through the trees, as Kol slammed straight into a thick trunk, the bark splitting with the impact. Kol groaned, dazed, as Rebekah burst out laughing.
"Show-off," she teased, but when she tried to move, her feet barely touched the ground before she zipped forward uncontrollably, slamming into Kol and knocking them both to the forest floor in a tangle of limbs.
Elijah was next, trying to move with his usual grace, but his super speed betrayed him. He stumbled through bushes, a blur of dark hair and startled curses.
Klaus chuckled, but even he misjudged his speed, nearly colliding with a rock before skidding to a stop. Hayley followed, fast as the wind, laughing until she tripped and landed sprawled on the grass, breathless with excitement.
Then Kol winced, looking at his arm — a jagged gash from the tree.
"Ah, fantastic," he muttered. But before the words were fully out, the cut sizzled, sealed itself, and vanished like it had never been. His eyes widened. "Did you see that?"
Everyone's gaze snapped to his arm, then their own bodies, as tiny scrapes and bruises from their chaotic run faded in seconds.
"This is… insane," Elijah breathed, touching his chest where Mikael's sword had ended him. The skin was flawless.
Suddenly, the world grew louder. So much louder. The heartbeat of a rabbit, the flutter of insect wings, the distant hum of a village fire, the creak of wood, the drip of dew.
"Too loud," Rebekah hissed, covering her ears.
"I can hear everything," Hayley said, awed and overwhelmed. "Every single thing."
Then, a golden glow crept across the horizon. The first rays of sunlight kissed the trees, warm and inviting.
And then—
Agony.
Kol screamed first, clutching at his arms as smoke rose from his skin. Rebekah shrieked as fire seemed to crawl across her face. Klaus howled in pain, shielding Hayley as she tried to do the same for him, their skin blistering, burning.
"INSIDE! NOW!" Elijah bellowed, grabbing Rebekah's hand and dragging her toward the shed.
They bolted, faster than they meant to, crashing through the door, slamming it shut behind them. Their skin smoldered, their breaths ragged, hearts racing.
Esther was already there, waiting. Calm, as if she knew this moment would come. Mikael stood beside her, arms crossed, unreadable.
"What's happening to us?!" Rebekah cried, her voice breaking.
Esther moved forward, her eyes filled with sadness, pride, and something darker. "We must figure this out together. What I've done… what we've become… it's only the beginning."
The siblings looked at each other, their burned skin already healing, their hearts thundering in their chests.
The first day of forever had begun.