A few hours later, I found myself seated in a private dining room with Elijah.
The room was dimly lit, with candles burning along the long wooden table. Heavy curtains covered the windows, keeping the outside world away from what was happening inside. Elijah had already made himself comfortable, seated across from me with the same calm, controlled posture he always carried.
Two women stood nearby.
Both were clearly compelled.
At Elijah's command, one of them used a small knife to slice open her wrist, letting the blood pour into two crystal cups placed on the table. The scent filled the room immediately, rich and intoxicating.
One of the women approached me and handed me a cup.
"Thank you," I said with a smile.
Instead of letting her walk away, I gently pulled her closer and lifted her onto my lap. She giggled softly, clearly under the effects of compulsion and whatever instructions Elijah had given her earlier.
Across the table, Elijah calmly drank from his own cup of blood.
After a moment, he set the cup down and looked at me.
"Well, my friend," he said smoothly, "I have told you quite a bit about myself this evening. Perhaps it is only fair that you share a little about yourself."
I leaned back slightly in my chair.
"Well," I said, "there really isn't anything too exciting."
Elijah raised an eyebrow but said nothing, allowing me to continue.
"I was born into a small family. A good one. We weren't wealthy, but my father had a talent for making the right connections. Eventually, those connections brought us here—to Britain. For a while, things were good."
I paused, pretending to recall an unpleasant memory.
"Until the day people discovered what we were."
Elijah's eyes sharpened slightly.
"And what exactly was that?" he asked.
"Werewolves," I said simply.
That made him pause.
"Wait," Elijah said slowly. "How could that be? You're a vampire. If you were already a werewolf, turning into a vampire would have—"
"Killed me?" I finished.
I shrugged lightly.
"Well, technically yes. But I hadn't triggered my curse yet."
Of course, that part was a lie.
There was no chance I was telling him that I was the very thing he and Klaus were currently trying to achieve.
"As you know," I continued calmly, "if a werewolf who hasn't triggered their curse is turned into a vampire, the werewolf gene becomes dormant. It can't be activated anymore."
Elijah slowly nodded, considering that.
"I was turned about a hundred years ago," I continued. "By a woman named Aya."
The moment Elijah heard that name, he froze slightly.
It was subtle, but I saw it.
His mind was already racing.
Aya was important to him. Important to the Strix.
He was probably wondering if she had sent me.
"And before you ask," I said calmly, "no, she didn't send me."
Elijah watched me closely.
"She did try to recruit me into the Strix," I added. "But I've been doing just fine on my own, as you can see."
For a few seconds, Elijah said nothing.
Then he slowly stood up and walked around the table.
He stopped beside me and placed a hand on my shoulder.
His grip tightened slightly.
Then he leaned down and looked directly into my eyes.
"Tell me the truth," he said quietly. "How do you know Aya?"
His eyes darkened.
And then he tried to compel me.
Of course…
He had no idea I wasn't a normal vampire.
Compulsion from an Original wouldn't work on me.
I had to hold back a laugh.
Instead, I let my expression go blank and played along, pretending the compulsion had taken hold.
"It's the truth," I said in a dull, trance-like voice. "She turned me. She tried to make me join the Strix, but I refused."
Elijah studied my face carefully.
Then he smiled slightly and released my shoulder, ending the compulsion.
I blinked a few times and shook my head, pretending to recover.
"How… how did you do that?" I asked. "Another vampire can't compel another vampire."
"Well," Elijah said calmly as he returned to his seat, "I am not simply another vampire."
He picked up his glass again.
"I am an Original. We created your kind. As a result… we can compel you."
I widened my eyes slightly, acting surprised.
But before I could respond, the doors to the dining room suddenly opened.
A familiar voice echoed through the room.
"Well, brother," he said casually, "who exactly is this friend of yours?"
Niklaus Mikaelson walked into the room.
He didn't even wait for an answer before grabbing one of the women standing nearby. He bit into her wrist and began drinking directly from the wound as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
Elijah glanced toward him.
"Niklaus," he said calmly, "this is Nero Tone. He is a vampire—approximately one hundred years old."
Klaus pulled his mouth away from the woman's wrist and looked over at me with interest.
"Well now," he said with a grin.
I stood from my chair.
"Nice to meet you, Niklaus," I said.
He wiped a bit of blood from his mouth.
"Please," he said with a smile, "call me Klaus, my friend."
-
POV: Elijah
This Nero was an interesting man.
In the centuries I had lived, I had met countless vampires. Most of them fell into predictable categories. Some were arrogant, believing immortality made them superior to everyone else. Others were cautious to the point of paranoia, always looking over their shoulder for hunters, rivals, or enemies. And then there were those who eventually lost their minds entirely, driven mad by time, bloodlust, or guilt.
Nero did not seem to fit into any of those groups.
I watched him carefully as he spoke with my brother. The two of them were already talking as if they had known each other for years. Klaus leaned casually against the table while drinking from one of the compelled women, while Nero stood nearby, relaxed and confident.
Too confident for someone meeting us for the first time.
Eventually Nero cleared his throat slightly.
"Now that I have both of you here," he said, "I was hoping I could ask a question."
Klaus glanced at him with mild curiosity.
"Well, go ahead," my brother said, wiping blood from his lips.
I gave a small nod as well.
Nero folded his hands behind his back.
"I assume you have both heard of the Sun and the Moon Curse."
I saw Klaus smile immediately.
Inside, I knew he was probably laughing.
Truthfully, I was a little amused as well.
The Sun and the Moon Curse was nothing more than a myth. A story carefully created and spread by Niklaus and myself centuries ago. We had allowed the rumor to travel through supernatural circles across Europe and beyond, making sure everyone believed the same tale.
According to the legend, vampires were cursed by the sun and could only walk in daylight if they possessed a daylight ring. Werewolves, meanwhile, were cursed by the moon and forced to transform every full moon.
And supposedly, there was a way to break both curses.
All one needed was the Moonstone and the blood of a doppelgänger.
Of course, none of that was true.
The entire myth existed for one purpose—to help us locate those two items.
Because the real curse was something far more personal.
It was the curse our mother had placed upon my brother centuries ago.
The spell she had used to seal away his werewolf nature.
Klaus was neither fully vampire nor fully werewolf.
He was something trapped in between.
And to break that curse, we needed the Moonstone… and the blood of a Petrova doppelgänger.
Which meant the young woman currently speaking with my brother in the ballroom tonight was far more important than she realized.
I studied Nero again.
"And why exactly does that interest you?" I asked calmly.
Nero gave a small shrug.
"I've heard rumors," he said. "Some say the curse is real. Others say it's nonsense. But whenever I hear conflicting stories like that, I become curious."
Klaus chuckled softly.
"Well, curiosity can be a dangerous thing, my friend," he said.
Nero smiled slightly.
"I suppose it can."
I leaned back slightly in my chair, watching him carefully.
"And what exactly do you believe?" I asked.
Nero thought for a moment before answering.
"I think," he said slowly, "that curses powerful enough to affect entire species don't appear without a reason."
Klaus tilted his head slightly, clearly intrigued.
"Oh?" my brother said. "And what reason might that be?"
Nero looked between the two of us.
"Power," he said simply.
That answer made Klaus grin.
"Well," my brother said, "you certainly think like a vampire."
Nero chuckled lightly.
"Occupational hazard."
For a moment the room fell silent again.
But I couldn't shake the feeling that something about Nero was… unusual.
He carried himself with the confidence of someone far older than one hundred years.
And despite my compulsion earlier…
Something about his eyes had not quite matched the behavior of someone truly compelled.
I said nothing about that, however.
Instead, I simply continued observing.
Because if there was one thing I had learned over the centuries…
It was that the most interesting truths often revealed themselves with patience.
-
POV: Nero
A day had passed since my encounter with the two Originals.
Honestly, their personalities hadn't surprised me at all. They behaved almost exactly the way they had in the stories and the show. Elijah was calm, controlled, and always thinking several steps ahead. Klaus, on the other hand, was chaotic, charming, and dangerous in equal measure.
What I found amusing, though, was that neither of them had any idea I could have killed them both right then and there.
Unlike most vampires, I wasn't sired to any of the Originals. My existence didn't come from their bloodline. I had created my own version of the vampire curse, which meant I wasn't turned by another vampire.
Because of that, the normal rules didn't apply to me.
If one of the Originals died, their entire sire line would die with them.
But not me.
If Klaus or Elijah had died that night…
I would have walked away just fine.
I sat in a large mansion somewhere on the outskirts of England, flipping through an old book. The pages were worn and yellowed with age, but the information inside was valuable.
The book detailed the Seven Original Werewolf Clans—the ancient bloodlines from which all werewolves supposedly descended.
Crescent.
Malraux.
Poldark
Barry.
Paxon
BasRoq
Deep Water
Each one had its own history, traditions, and bloodline ties. Understanding them might be useful later if I ever decided to experiment further with werewolf magic.
I was halfway through a page when the door opened.
One of my vampires stepped inside.
"Boss," he said.
I looked up.
It was Axel.
Axel was a large man—easily over six feet tall, with the kind of build that made most people think twice before starting trouble. I usually brought him along when dealing with humans or smaller vampire groups. His presence alone was often enough to discourage problems.
Of course, even if someone did try something…
I could end them in a heartbeat.
"Someone is here to see you," Axel said.
I waved my hand dismissively.
"Send them in."
A moment later, someone stepped through the doorway.
She looked to be in her mid-twenties, with dark brown skin, bright green eyes, and sharp, intelligent features. Her expression carried the familiar mixture of confidence and annoyance that I had grown very used to.
I closed the book and smiled.
"Monna," I said. "If it isn't my favorite witch."
She rolled her eyes slightly.
"And if it isn't my favorite hybrid," she replied.
Monna was a Bennett witch, and one of the very few people in the world who knew what I truly was.
A hybrid.
Most witches would have tried to kill me the moment they discovered that truth.
Monna hadn't.
Instead, we had developed a… complicated relationship.
I was immortal.
She was not.
Because of that, neither of us bothered pretending what we had was something permanent. We simply enjoyed each other's company while it lasted.
Friends.
Occasional allies.
And sometimes something a little more than that.
I leaned back in my chair.
"I'm guessing you found what I asked for," I said.
She smirked slightly.
"Of course. Always business before pleasure."
She walked across the room and placed a rolled parchment scroll on the table in front of me.
"I managed to track down two of the things you were looking for," she said.
I unrolled the scroll slowly.
"Oh?" I said.
Monna crossed her arms.
"The location of the Gemini Coven," she said first.
That alone made my interest spike.
The Gemini Coven possessed some of the most unusual magic in the world. Their twin-merge ritual alone made them valuable for certain… experiments.
"And the second?" I asked.
Her expression grew more serious.
"The island where Silas is imprisoned."
For a moment, the room went quiet.
Even Axel shifted slightly where he stood.
I looked back up at Monna slowly.
Now that…
That was interesting.