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The Preserve (Hope POV)
The SUV's headlights cut across the gravel drive, bouncing off the pale siding of a two-story house pressed close to the tree line. Porch light on, curtains half-drawn, the smell of pine and damp earth rolling straight out of the preserve behind it. Beacon Hills wasn't supposed to feel like anything more than another stop on Alaric's endless recruitment trail, but the second Hope stepped out of the car, the night caught her throat and wouldn't let go.
Alaric shouldered his satchel, papers sticking out like bookmarks. "You coming up with me?" he asked, tilting his head toward the house.
Hope glanced at the porch, where a man and a woman waited, their nervous and polite smiles fixed in place. Behind the screen door, a flicker of movement—a small girl's shadow, hesitant. The witch. Eleven, maybe. Too young for what the world would throw at her. Too young for Hope to stand there and smile like she was a safe face.
"You've got the pitch," Hope said. "They'll listen better without me."
Alaric searched her face, maybe reading more than she wanted, then gave a short nod. "Don't go far."
She huffed, shoving her hands into her jacket pockets. "Wouldn't dream of it."
He headed toward the porch, papers ready, voice already smoothing into that calm, professor cadence that worked on wary parents. Hope stood a beat longer at the edge of the gravel, her gaze pulled sideways—toward the wall of trees.
The air was thick here. Too thick. Her wolf pricked up first, nose filling with musk and heat that didn't belong to any coyote or deer. The vampire in her sharpened instantly, mouth watering at the copper-sweet tang threaded through the air. And under it all, the witch in her whispered that the leyline running beneath this soil wasn't humming alone. Something was riding it, bleeding through it, calling.
She turned her head, breathing in slowly. That was when it hit her—full in the chest, like a fist closing around her heart.
Wolf, yes. But not just wolf. The scent twisted with something sweeter, darker, like sugar just at the edge of burning. It made her fangs press sharply against her lip. It made her pulse trip hard enough to cause her to stumble. And it was close in the preserve.
Every part of her—the fractured tribrid mess that had never agreed on anything—spoke with one voice: mine.
Her witch side felt the tether snap taut, threads binding invisible between her ribs and the heartbeat she hadn't even seen yet. Her wolf side snarled in recognition, alpha instincts bending not to dominate but to guard. And her vampire? It purred, aching for skin, blood, claim. All three pulling in the same direction, all three certain of the same truth: there was someone out there born to belong to her.
Hope exhaled through her teeth, hands curling into fists inside her jacket. She didn't know much about soulbonds—fragments from letters she'd never wanted to read, rumors Klaus had once scrawled like warnings. But she knew enough to recognize the inevitability of the pull in her chest.
She looked back once. Alaric was on the porch now, shaking hands, already charming them with the school's promises. He wouldn't notice if she slipped.
"Not going far," she muttered, half to herself, half to the night. Then she turned and stepped off the gravel, the forest swallowing her in one breath.
The deeper she went, the stronger it grew. Pine needles crunched under her boots. Branches clawed at her sleeves. The air pressed heavily, humming with a rhythm that matched her heartbeat. And underneath the canopy, the scent sharpened until she could almost taste it—wolf musk, hot sweat, and that sweet, searing wrongness that made her feel starved and full at the same time.
Her breath hitched. The witch, the wolf, the vampire—all clawed to the surface, united for once. They didn't care what waited in the dark. They only cared that she find it.
And then she heard it: a stumble, a strangled breath, nails raking bark. A heartbeat too fast, too unsteady, thudding like a trapped bird against ribs.
Hope's lips curved without humor. "Found you," she whispered, and let the bond drag her the rest of the way into the trees.
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The Preserve (Aurora POV)
The trees blurred. Branches whipped at her shoulders, clawed her arms, but she didn't care—she needed speed, she required exhaustion, she needed to run until the ache in her chest was gone. Until Allison's face was burned into the back of her eyelids. Until she couldn't hear the echo of Scott's laugh in the corner of her mind when she'd walked in on them.
Weeks. It had been weeks, and still the memory festered like rot. Allison's hands were where they shouldn't have been. Scott's breathless apologies that weren't for her. She'd walked away, swore she wouldn't cry again, swore she wouldn't need again.
But she hadn't forgotten. She couldn't.
Because with Allison, it had been real. The love. The bond. The way Allison would trace lazy circles on her skin after, whispering "I love you" against her collarbone. The way Nova had believed it, had felt it in every kiss, every touch. That part hadn't been her unknown side feeding. That had been them—two girls in love.
And yet—beneath that love, the hunger had been satisfied, too. Allison on top of her, riding her slow, moaning her name like a prayer. Allison was kissing her neck while sliding fingers deep inside her, relentless until Nova was clawing the sheets. Allison's mouth between her thighs, greedy, pulling orgasm after orgasm from her until Nova was limp and trembling. And sometimes—Allison with a strap buckled tight around her hips, pushing into Nova hard and deep, fucking her until the bedframe shook, until Nova was clawing her back and sobbing against her chest.
Every time, Nova had been completely wrecked, but quiet inside, whole, not gnawed apart by the hunger. She hadn't understood why. She thought it was just love.
Maybe it was both.
Because Allison had been addicted, too, she always came back, hungry for more. And now, chasing it with Scott, she left him unsatisfied, restless, whispering that something was missing because it was.
And that made it worse. Allison had loved her. Nova had loved her. And still, she had betrayed her.
Nova had tried to move on, tried to burn Allison out of her skin.
She'd gone out, let strange girls kiss her in the back seats of cars, let their hands roam her skin, let their mouths pretend at comfort. One was clumsy but eager, tugging at her jeans until she gave in and let them slide fingers inside her. She'd bucked against them, body responding even as her chest stayed hollow. Another pushed her down onto cheap motel sheets, mouth between her thighs, tongue frantic and wet until she came with a cry.
Nova had gone through the motions, kissed them back, let them touch her, let them come apart against her thigh.
But every time, she felt hollow. The orgasms left her emptier, the hunger sharper. The girls sighed against her chest, satisfied, while Nova lay staring at the ceiling, biting her lip to stop from screaming.
Because whatever lived inside her—it hadn't wanted them. And worse, she knew, deep down, that if she ever gave in, if she ever let that hunger loose, it would drain them dry. Kill them. That fear kept her rigid, shoving the hunger down into its cage.
With Allison, though... it had never been like that. Whatever she was, whatever lived inside her, it had been content with Allison. Safe.
Even now, memory struck sharp—
Flashback: Allison had cornered her outside school, eyes dark, voice shaking with jealousy. "You think I don't hear things? About you and those girls?" she'd hissed, fists clenched.
Nova's heart had twisted, but her anger burned hotter. "We're not dating anymore, Allison. You lost that right when you fucked Scott." Her voice had cracked, but her glare didn't. "I don't belong to you. I can fuck whoever I want."
Allison had flinched, just slightly, before her jaw hardened. She'd looked at Nova like she was still hers, even though she wasn't. The memory of it still cuts, still burns.
Now, in the woods, those memories twisted the knife deeper.
Her knees buckled. She caught herself on the redwood, nails raking deep grooves into the bark. Blood welled at her palms. She pressed her forehead to the trunk, panting. "No," she whispered, voice shaking. "I won't give in. Not again. Not ever."
Her wolf surged in protest, eyes burning hot red as alpha power rolled out of her in a ripple. The trees shivered. The night held its breath.
Then it happened.
The red bled away, drowning into luminous blue.
Nova gasped, stumbling back from the tree, her whole body shaking. She caught her reflection in a shard of car window half-buried in the dirt, some leftover wreckage. Not the icy blue of a werewolf who had taken a life. This was different. Brighter. Wilder. Almost alive. Her eyes looked like bottled lightning, storm-colored fire spilling out of her skull.
"No," she whispered, horrified. "That's not a wolf."
Fear clawed up her throat, hot and choking. She blinked hard, trying to will them back to red, back to human, back to anything familiar. But the blue stayed, flaring stronger with every panicked breath.
"Stay down," she growled to herself, trembling so hard her teeth rattled. "Stay down, whatever the hell you are."
But her body didn't listen. Her legs quivered. Her skin felt too tight, her chest too hot, her blood running molten. The hunger rose like a tide she couldn't fight, pulsing out in waves she couldn't stop. Animals in the preserve scattered—birds shrieking out of trees, something crashing through undergrowth as it fled. The night itself bent away from her.
Her aura leaked. She could feel it pouring off her, seeping into the woods like a beacon—a call she didn't want to make.
And then—she caught it.
Another scent, slicing through the dark like fire through dry grass. Wolf. Witch. Vampire. All tangled, all wrong, all powerful. It slammed into her lungs, causing her body to jolt as if she'd been struck. Her wolf snarled. That other half purred. Both sides screamed want.
Her stomach dropped.
"Leave me alone," she hissed into the trees, her voice raw, desperate, cracking under its own weight.
But the bond only tightened. She could feel whoever it was, step by step, drawing closer. Every heartbeat not her own thudded in her skull.
She pressed her back to the tree, her claws biting deeper into the bark, her luminous blue eyes glowing like beacons.
She didn't know what she was. But she knew this: if they got too close, if they touched her—she'd break.
And she didn't know if she could survive breaking again.
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– The Preserve
The scent grew sharper, closer, until it ripped through Nova's chest like claws. She pressed tighter to the tree, her breath ragged, blue eyes burning. "Stay back," she hissed, voice shaking. "Don't—"
The underbrush parted.
Hope Mikaelson stepped into the clearing, moonlight striking her hair, eyes glinting wolf-gold one heartbeat, vampire-black the next. She froze when she saw Nova—bloodied palms pressed to bark, eyes glowing that impossible luminous blue.
For a moment, neither moved.
Then Hope inhaled, and everything in her rebelled. Her witch blood thrummed with recognition, her wolf clawed to the surface, her vampire hissed hunger. Every side of her screamed the same word: Mine.
She didn't understand it. She knew what a soulbond was, how rare it was. Whispered and written like a myth, something treated as a legend. But her chest burned with the certainty that this girl—wild, shaking, glowing wrong—belonged to her.
Nova shook her head, clutching the tree like it could anchor her. "No. Whoever you are, leave. Please."
Hope took a step forward anyway. She couldn't stop herself.
Nova's body flared, aura spilling into the air, thick with her hunger. It slammed into Hope, made her stumble, and made her bite down on a growl. She wanted to lunge. To soothe. To tear. To fuck.
"Don't fight me," Hope rasped, eyes burning gold, voice thick, possessive. "I can feel it. You're mine."
Nova's laugh broke into a sob. "You don't know what you're saying. You don't know what I am. I'll hurt you—"
"Try," Hope growled, and then she was on her.
They crashed against the tree, bark splitting under the force. Hope grabbed her, spun her, pressed her chest-first to the trunk. Nova gasped as Hope yanked at her jeans, dragging them down to her knees.
Then Nova heard it. The low rasp of a zipper sliding down.
Her breath caught.
Not a toy. Not fingers.
Flesh.
The thick heat of it pressed against her entrance, pulsing, alive. Nova's eyes widened as her head snapped back over her shoulder. For a heartbeat, shock froze her.
Her mind stuttered. That's real. She's—she's not like anyone else.
And then another thought, sharp and undeniable: She's thicker. Longer. Bigger than any strap-on Allison ever used on me.
Her stomach flipped, fear and want colliding.
Hope's face was feral, eyes blazing, lips parted in a growl. Her grip bruised Nova's hip. Then she thrust forward, burying herself deep in one brutal stroke.
Nova screamed, nails raking the bark, body clenching around her, stretched full. Shock melted into heat, into desperate need.
Hope pressed her chest flush to Nova's back, breasts slick against her shoulder blades, hips snapping forward, cock driving her harder, deeper, with every thrust.
"Mine," Hope snarled against her ear, biting her neck until blood welled. "You're mine."
Nova sobbed, hips rolling helplessly to meet her. Her glowing blue eyes lit the bark, flashing brighter each time Hope slammed into her, as if the bond itself burned through her skin.
The hunger inside her didn't snarl this time. Didn't claw at her. With Hope, it was silent. Purring. For the first time since Allison, she wasn't afraid of losing control.
Her climax hit suddenly and brutally, ripping her apart. She wailed, wordless, body convulsing around Hope's cock, milking her, taking everything she gave.
And then—light.
Not the harsh blue that had haunted her reflection. Golden. Warm. Radiant. It burst from her chest in a wave, spilling out into the trees, rolling across the preserve like a heartbeat made visible. Leaves shivered. The night itself hushed. It was a pulse of belonging, raw and undeniable, as if the earth itself had blessed them.
Hope groaned, instincts roaring, hips grinding as she spilled deep inside her, filling her with hot release. The golden light washed through her too, and for a moment she thought she might shatter.
When the glow faded, silence swallowed the clearing.
Nova sagged against the tree, trembling, bloodied palms pressed into the bark. Hope stayed close, chest heaving, lips brushing her shoulder. Both of them panting, shaky, dazed.
Slowly, Hope softened, easing out. Nova gasped at the wet slide, thighs trembling. Hope tugged her jeans back into place with careful hands, gentle now. She turned her, pressing her back to the trunk instead of her chest.
Their eyes met.
Nova's eyes glowed faintly still, red threads flickering in the blue. Hope's werewolf-gold lingered in hers, but softer now.
For the first time, neither looked feral.
They looked... whole.
"I—" Nova's voice broke. She swallowed, lip trembling. "What did we just do?"
Hope shook her head, a rough laugh breaking from her. She brushed sweaty strands of hair from Nova's cheek with trembling fingers. "I don't know. But it felt like... like I've been waiting for this. For you."
Nova closed her eyes, letting her forehead fall against Hope's shoulder. For a heartbeat, she wanted to push her away, to say no, to run. But her body wouldn't let her. For the first time in weeks, the hunger wasn't screaming. For the first time in her life, she felt safe.
Hope wrapped her arms around her, holding her tight against the tree, protective now, possessive but soft. "You're shaking," she whispered against her hair.
Nova swallowed hard, her voice hoarse. "I can still feel you in me."
Hope's chest rose, sharp, and she pulled her closer instead of easing off. Her lips brushed Nova's temple, her voice a low growl smoothed to velvet. "Good. Don't fight it. You're mine now."
And somehow, against all logic, Nova let her.
Because whatever had just broken loose between them — it hadn't left her hollow. It had filled her.
For the first time since Allison, Nova wasn't empty.
For the first time... she was whole.
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