A while after the revealing conversation between Hope and Lizzie, full of emotions on the surface. The sun shone brightly over Mystic Falls, bathing the town square in a vibrant light that contrasted with the tense stillness of the previous days. An impromptu local festival took over the space: colorful flags danced in the wind, the sweet smell of cotton candy and corn on the cob mixed with the aroma of grilled burgers, and lively music created a soundtrack for the laughter and conversation that filled the air. Students from the Salvatore School circulated among the residents, in an attempt at "integration" after the recent scares.
Hope walked between the stalls, a pink cotton candy almost forgotten in her hand, beside Lizzie. On the outside, she tried to absorb the lightness of the moment, the rare sense of normalcy. Inside, however, her heart was a confusing territory. Ethan. The name echoed. The memory of the kiss in the square, the intensity in the hotel room and her Aunt Freya's confirmation of the Imprint —that powerful werewolf bond her mother had mentioned, which explained the almost uncontrollable and frightening attraction she felt for him—mixed with his absence these past few days. He was keeping his promise to give her space, but his silence was almost as disturbing as his overwhelming presence.
"Seriously, Hope, you have to try Mrs. Gable's apple pie, it's heavenly!" Lizzie chattered excitedly, pointing to a stall where a rosy-cheeked lady was selling golden pies. "I heard Rafael almost ate an entire one by himself earlier."
Hope laughed, genuinely this time. "Maybe later. For now, this is fine," he said, taking a hesitant bite of cotton candy. Being with Lizzie, who now remembered her as Hope Mikaelson, was an indescribable relief.
Not far away, near the dry fountain that served as a meeting point, Rafael and Landon watched the crowd. Landon seemed distracted, kicking a loose pebble on the ground. His dreams of Hope continued, confusing fragments of a past he didn't understand, leaving a lingering feeling of emptiness and a strange pang of jealousy whenever he saw "Hope Marshall"—especially around that newbie, Ethan. Who was she, anyway? And why did she mess with him so much?
Rafael, on the other hand, was not distracted. His eyes kept finding Hope's figure across the square. Ever since the night in the forest, when she had helped him revert from wolf form with such impressive calm and power, he had been unable to get her out of his head. There was something about her—a quiet strength, a beauty that went beyond the physical, an aura of mystery and perhaps sadness—that drew him to her in an unexpected way. She's amazing , he thought, watching her laugh at something Lizzie had said.
Lizzie, with her infallible social radar, didn't take long to notice the looks directed at her friend. He saw Landon, with his usual lost puppy expression, but he focused on Rafael's gaze – more fixed, more intense, filled with an admiration that was not just casual. A mischievous smile appeared on his lips. Perfect.
She leaned toward Hope, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Speaking of which, friend," she began casually, "it's a good thing you're falling for your mysterious wolf, huh? It's a relief. At least this way my sister won't be pining over Landon, and maybe they can be happy together?" Lizzie winked, testing Hope's reaction.
Hope blushed slightly at the indirect mention of Ethan. "Lizzie, we've talked about this..."
"But seriously," Lizzie continued, ignoring the reprimand and subtly tilting her head toward the boys, "it seems that Hope Mikaelson's line of admirers is growing, even if they don't even know it's you." Her eyes met Hope's with pure amusement. "Especially that one over there."
Hope frowned. "What are you talking about?"
Lizzie laughed. "Look back discreetly. Wolf cub number two. Rafael. He's been eye-rolling you since we got here."
"What?" Hope turned, more slowly this time, and her gaze met Rafael's. He had been staring at her and looked away quickly, looking embarrassed at having been caught. But not before Hope saw the intensity there—admiration, maybe even something more. Rafael? Why? "You're seeing things, Lizzie," she murmured, turning back around, confused.
"Oh, am I?" Lizzie laughed, taking another bite of her churro. "We'll see, Mikaelson. We'll see."
Meanwhile, at Marty's Workshop...
Far from the festival, the smell of grease and hot metal filled Marty's Garage. Ethan lay beneath an old Ford, sweat dripping down his face as he struggled with a stubborn bolt. "Damn rusty part," he grumbled, the wrench slipping. He glanced around – Marty was busy with another car. With a subdued grunt, he used his supernatural strength to loosen the bolt. Sometimes it's always good to use a little of the supernatural, right?
He was almost out from under the car when a clear, feminine voice with a hint of urgency called from the entrance: "Excuse me? Hello? Is anyone there? My car stopped at the corner!"
Ethan pushed the cart away and stood, wiping his hands on a dirty cloth. Standing in the doorway, bathed in the afternoon light, was an elegant, blonde woman who looked out of place there. Her intelligent blue eyes assessed him briefly before settling on his face.
"Hello," she said, coming closer. "Sorry to bother you, but my car..." She stopped, tilting her head.
Ethan offered a tired half-smile. "What happened to the car?"
"It started smoking and stopped. A few blocks from here, near the square," the woman replied.
"Got it. Overheated radiator or burst hose," Ethan diagnosed. He turned to where Marty stood. "Marty! I'm going to make a quick run to help this lady with her car!" Marty just grunted in agreement. Ethan grabbed a basic toolbox, containing the necessities for a quick fix, and turned to the woman. "I'm Ethan, by the way."
"Freya," she replied, shaking his offered hand, her blue eyes still shining with analytical curiosity. "Nice to meet you, Ethan. And thank you."
They left the workshop, walking towards the square. As they walked, Freya watched him discreetly. This boy is not ordinary , she thought.
"So, Ethan," she said, "have you been in Mystic Falls long?"
"Not long," he replied. "Just a few months."
"Your face... is awfully familiar," Freya commented thoughtfully. "You know, you remind me so much of someone I saw in an old photograph back home in New Orleans. Almost identical..."
Ethan remained calm, but the mention of the photo intrigued him. "Does anyone look like me? Interesting. Maybe a distant relative." He glanced sideways. "You said Freya... What's her last name, if you don't mind?"
Freya hesitated, assessing him. Sensing no malice in the boy's question, only curiosity. "It's Mikaelson," she replied. "Freya Mikaelson."
Mikaelson. The name popped into Ethan's mind. Hope. He processed internally, his face neutral. So she's Hope's aunt. The picture... it's probably of my father, Clark. He must have visited Hope's mother when she was still pregnant. And her mother must have kept the picture... for her son? Or even as a keepsake. A memory came to his mind. Hope said she had a twin brother... What was his name? Damn, how could I forget? The guy is my half-brother... Great, Ethan. What a mess.
"Sorry, I got distracted," he said, turning back to Freya calmly. "You said you had this picture at home? In New Orleans?"
Freya nodded slowly, watching how he processed the information, the way the name Mikaelson seemed to register with him, even though he tried to hide it. There was definitely more to the boy than met the eye. "Yes, at home," she confirmed, deciding to hold the bait. "Like I said, from a man named Clark."
Some time later they reached Freya's car, a sleek sedan parked near the edge of the square, where the music and voices of the festival created a lively backdrop. The hood was still ajar, a wisp of steam rising lazily.
"This is where he decided to take a break," Freya commented with a sigh.
Ethan set the toolbox down on the ground and opened the hood wide. The smell of hot coolant confirmed his diagnosis. "Radiator hose burst," he said, pointing to the cracked rubber. "Lucky for you I had a spare in my bag." Then he took the new hose and the necessary tools from the box.
As he worked skillfully and focusedly to replace the damaged part, a breeze from the square carried Hope's unmistakable scent—lavender, rain, and something all her own—to Ethan's nostrils. A small smile played on his lips, and he raised an eyebrow at himself. She's here, then. He lifted his head discreetly, scanning the crowd, but didn't immediately spot her among the stalls and people. He frowned. Strange… I can feel her nearby. The familiar humming in his bones, which always seemed to intensify around her, confirmed her presence. He decided to focus on his work for now, the awareness of her nearness adding a new layer to his concentration. The repair was quick, his experience speaking louder.
As he tightened the last clamp, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his forearm that made his biceps more evident, a group of girls from the festival passed them, slowing down and exchanging whispers and muffled giggles. One of them, giving Ethan a direct look that ran up and down, spoke loudly with a mischievous smile: "Excuse me, Handsome! If you need help with... 'lubricating the parts' later, just call us!" She gestured vaguely to herself and her friends, who burst into laughter, some blushing, others squealing encouragement, before hurriedly walking away, still looking back with obvious interest.
Freya, who had clearly heard the not-so-subtle "offer," laughed heartily, shaking her head. "Definitely popular," she remarked to Ethan, an amused glint in her eyes. "They're quite… direct, aren't they?"
Ethan straightened, wiping his hands on a cloth. "I think it's the smell of grease, it must be irresistible," he joked, a crooked smile appearing. He took out the bottle of water he had brought with him and began to fill the reservoir. "There. This should hold for a while."
"Thank you very much, Ethan," Freya said, opening her purse. She pulled out a sizable wad of bills. "Here, please accept this for your time and the play." She held out seven hundred dollars to him.
Ethan's eyes widened, taking a step back. "What? No, Freya, it's too much! It was a simple fix, the hose didn't even cost that much."
"I insist," Freya said, her gaze firm but gentle. She was in Mystic Falls because of Josie Saltzman, she had called her there to help her with something – But that boy... he intrigued her. "Consider it a bonus for being so thoughtful and saving me from getting stuck here."
Ethan hesitated, still thinking the price was excessive, but he could see that she wasn't going to budge. He accepted the money with a nod. "Well…thank you, Freya. Really." He smiled. "If you need anything else with the car…"
"I know who to look for," she added, smiling back. "It was a pleasure, Ethan." With one last curious look, Freya got into the car, started the now silent engine, and drove away down the street.
Ethan pocketed the money, still stunned by her generosity—and by her identity. Hope's aunt. He stood there for a moment, packing his tools into the toolbox, his gaze sweeping the festival crowd in the square. Hope's scent was still there, unmistakable to his heightened senses. He looked for her again, walking a little way down the sidewalk, but couldn't find her amid the stalls and people. Strange , he thought. I can feel her nearby. With a sigh, he decided to go back to the workshop and return the toolbox. Maybe I should call her sometime…
Meanwhile, in the square...
Beneath one of the picnic tables set up for the festival, strategically positioned near the small crack in the plaza's pavement—the portal to Malivore that had appeared after the fight against the Oni—Hope and Lizzie were talking in low voices. The music and voices of the festival drowned out their words.
"...and then I felt like I was just a normal teenager!" Hope concluded, still half in awe, half confused by everything that was happening.
Lizzie rolled her eyes. "Of course it does. You're in love, Hope. It's side effect number one: loss of IQ and excessive sighing."
"I'm not in love!" Hope protested, her face trying to be ironic, but it wasn't convincing at all. "I'm... intrigued and confused. He's... different." And these feelings... are driving me crazy , she finished in thought.
"Different is one way of saying 'mysterious hot wolf with daddy issues,' but okay," Lizzie shrugged. Suddenly, Hope went quiet, her head tilted, a strange expression on her face.
"What's wrong?" Lizzie asked.
"I don't know," Hope muttered, frowning. "I felt something... strange. A twinge." Her instincts were on alert, perhaps because of the proximity of the portal, perhaps because of something else. "Wait here a minute, Liz. I need to see something."
Hope crawled out from under the table, standing up and brushing the dust off her jeans. She looked around the square, searching for any sign of danger, anything out of the ordinary. Her eyes swept the crowd, the tents, the trees…and then she saw him.
Ethan. He was walking away from the square, walking down the sidewalk in the opposite direction, carrying a toolbox in his hand. He didn't see her.
Hope's heart skipped a beat. He was here! The realization hit her hard. Had he come to talk to me? Hope blossomed for a moment, but was quickly replaced by logic. No, he probably came to do some work nearby. She watched him walk away, his posture confident, the way he moved. I wanted to talk to him… the words came out of her mouth automatically, almost a whisper.
She took a step to follow him, opening her mouth to call out to him, but before she could, Lizzie's cell phone rang shrilly under the table.
"Hello?" Lizzie answered, her expression changing from curiosity to panic in a second. "What?! A zombie? At school? MG, are you kidding me?!" There was a tense pause. "Damn it! We're going!"
Lizzie hung up and came out from under the table like a flash, her eyes wide. "Hope! Trouble at school! MG said there's a zombie attacking near the soccer field!"
"A zombie?" Hope repeated, confusion about Ethan instantly replaced by alarm.
"We don't have time! Come on!" Lizzie grabbed Hope's hand tightly and started running, pulling her out of the square and toward the Salvatore School, leaving behind the festival, the forgotten portal, and the chance to talk to Ethan. The crisis, as always, had come first.
They ran through the side streets of Mystic Falls, their feet pounding the asphalt, the distant sound of the festival music fading away. Hope tried to keep up with Lizzie, her breath coming in short gasps, her mind still divided between the image of Ethan walking away and the alarming news of a zombie at the school.
"Wait a minute!" As if remembering something, Lizzie asked breathlessly between runs, without slowing down, but turning her head to look at Hope. "What were you doing sneaking out from under the table like that, all mysterious, before the phone rang?" Lizzie's curiosity, apparently, didn't take a break even in emergencies.
Hope hesitated, catching her breath. "I... felt something," she explained, the image of Ethan still floating in her mind. "A feeling... And then I looked around and saw Ethan walking away down the street, with the toolbox."
Lizzie nearly stumbled, but recovered, turning to Hope with wide eyes, one eyebrow arched in both astonishment and sarcasm. "Wow, Hope! Wait, you have Ethan's radar now? You can sense him from afar?" She shook her head, an incredulous smile appearing. "Now that's a supernatural connection. Or maybe just a super werewolf obsession because of the Imprint. You need to decide which one."
"It's not..." Hope began to protest, her face blushing slightly...
"Alright, Mrs. 'I deny that I'm in love with the boy who won't leave my head'," Lizzie interrupted with playful impatience. "Now focus on the zombie, then we'll analyze your super couple telepathy!" She said as she drove, pulling Hope tighter as they turned the corner, the urgency of the situation finally overcoming the momentary gossip. They ran towards the gates of the Salvatore School, not knowing exactly what they would find, but ready to face another chaotic day in their not-so-normal lives.
The next day dawned grey and heavy at the Salvatore School, sunlight struggling to break through the thick clouds. A day had passed since the rush of the festival and the incident with the supposed "zombie", which they later discovered had been an initial confrontation with a new threat, resulting in Josie being exhausted and unconscious after using an unknown magic. Hope and Lizzie walked across the campus, a sense of tense calm between them. Hope was still processing the avalanche of emotions related to Ethan and their connection, while Lizzie adjusted to the recovered memories of Hope Mikaelson. For a moment, it would almost have seemed like a normal day, if not for the strange stillness that hung over some of the students and the memory of Josie's battle.
"Is it over?" Lizzie asked, kicking a loose stone on the gravel path that led to the training grounds. "I mean, the thing disappeared after Jo attacked, right? Maybe it was just a... I don't know, a passing monster?"
Hope frowned, an uneasy feeling lingering. "I don't know, Liz. That was just too weird. And this calm…" She stopped walking, looking around. "It feels like the kind of calm that comes before something much worse."
As if to confirm their fears, a horrible smell assaulted their nostrils—a pungent, chemical odor mixed with something vaguely organic and rotten. They exchanged an alarmed glance and followed the scent to a more secluded area behind the property's old mill.
What they found made their stomachs turn. On the ground, near a moss-covered stone wall, was a pile of men's clothing soaked in a thick, translucent slime, and… that was it. There was no body, just the clothes and a disgusting substance that seemed to have dissolved whatever was inside them. It looked like the man had been liquefied from the inside out.
"Oh my God!" Lizzie exclaimed, covering her mouth and nose, her eyes wide with horror. "How disgusting! What kind of monster would do something like that?" She took a step back, clearly disgusted.
Hope, however, approached cautiously, her instincts analyzing the macabre scene. He crouched down near the goo, not touching it, his eyes intent. It wasn't melted. It was as if the victim had been liquefied inside, digested. And there was something else... a faint but familiar residual energy, tied to the strange sensation he'd felt at school and the description of the energy that had hit the monster during Josie's fight.
His eyes swept the stone wall behind the pile of clothes. And then he saw. Scratched into the stone with what appeared to be the same disgusting goo was a single word: CROATOAN .
"That..." Hope murmured, eyes narrowing in recognition mixed with revulsion. "It's a Croatoan."
Lizzie frowned, backing away from the scene. "A Croa-what? Never heard of it. It sounds like a syrup. How do you know that?"
"Because he left a calling card," Hope said, pointing to the word on the wall, her voice dark. "It's an ancient creature. It feeds on secrets, on lies. And it seems to… digest its victims afterwards. This is much worse than I thought."
Lizzie looked from the word on the wall to the pile of clothes and goo, her face pale. "Okay, this is officially disgusting and way above our 'handle it ourselves by quietly investigating' level," she declared, her voice steady despite her shock. "We need help. Like, now." She pulled out her phone, her fingers flying over the screen. "We need to find Landon, Rafael, MG, Kaleb…we need the Squad. And we need to get word to my dad. Fast."
Hope nodded, standing up. The brief sense of peace had completely dissipated, replaced by the familiar urgency of hunting the monster. A Croatoan. Devourer of secrets. This couldn't be a coincidence, not with so many secrets—hers, Ethan's, the school's own—floating dangerously close to the surface. And there was more. A deep intuition told her that the Croatoan was here because of Landon—his fragmented memories, the secrets buried in Malivore, were like a beacon to a creature like that. The storm was really beginning. They needed to find the others and prepare.
They hurried back to the school, news of the gruesome discovery already spreading. Soon, the main group was gathered in an abandoned storage shed just outside the property line—a discreet place to discuss the new threat without attracting unwanted attention. The air was chilly and smelled of dust, old oil, and the quiet apprehension of the group that had already formed: Hope, Lizzie, Kaleb, Rafael, Landon, and Maya, all of whom wore expressions ranging from concern to shock.
They were just beginning to discuss what to do when the deep rumble of a Harley-Davidson approaching on the dirt path shattered the tense silence outside. A few seconds later, the rusty metal door creaked open, and Ethan stepped inside, bringing with him a rush of fresh air and the unmistakable energy of his presence. His eyes immediately met Hope's across the dusty space.
A slow, genuine smile spread across Ethan's face as he watched her. He walked over to her, ignoring the others for a moment. "You know," he said, his voice low and husky with a hint of playful admiration, "it seems like with each passing day, you get even more beautiful, Mikaelson. Even covered in warehouse dust."
Hope rolled her eyes, but couldn't help the smile that appeared in response to the compliment and the way he was looking at her. "And you look like you just auditioned for a rebellious biker movie, Nichols. The only thing missing is the leather jacket, oh no, wait..." she joked, pointing to the jacket he had left on the bike.
Ethan's laugh was a warm sound in the cool air of the shed. "Maybe I'm trying to impress a certain super-powerful wolf," he replied, winking. After this brief exchange of pleasantries that seemed to ease some of her tension , he pulled her into a quick but tight hug, a gesture that seemed to tell how long it had been.
Landon, watching the easy exchange and embrace, felt the familiar jealousy twist in his stomach. The way Ethan looked at Hope, the way she smiled back at him… it was different than this embrace. He looked away, swallowing the bitterness, deciding to keep his feelings to himself for now, still processing his own confusing memories and the situation with the monster.
Lizzie, however, had no intention of staying quiet. "Okay, lovebirds," she interrupted in a falsely sweet tone, clapping her hands together once. "Lovely reunion, really, but we've got a secret-eating monster out there. This is no time for flirting, Ethan and Hope!"
Ethan stepped away from Hope, but left an arm casually draped over her shoulders, turning to Lizzie with an amused smile. "Jealous, Saltzman? Just because I make more of an impact?"
Lizzie made an exaggerated face at him, sticking her tongue out briefly, but an amused smile soon followed. "In your dreams, newbie. Just trying to stay focused on this week's apocalypse."
Hope laughed at their interaction, shaking her head before her expression turned serious again. She stepped away from Ethan slightly, assuming her natural leadership stance. "Okay, guys, focus," she said, her voice firm now, commanding attention. "What we found was the mark of a Croatoan. It's an ancient creature that feeds on secrets, and the way it left that victim… it's dangerous. And I think," she glanced meaningfully at Landon, "that like every other monster that's come out of Malivore, it's probably after Landon."
A tense silence fell over the group as they processed this information. It was Kaleb who broke it, skeptical as ever. "Hold on," he said, crossing his arms and looking at Hope. "No offense, but who let the new girl in Mystic Falls be in charge again?"
Before Hope could respond, Rafael stepped in, defending her with conviction. "She's capable of this, Kaleb," he said firmly. "Hope knows what she's doing. She saved me in the woods the other day, when I was stuck in wolf form and couldn't get back. She calmed me down."
Hope turned to Rafael, offering him a small smile of genuine gratitude for his unexpected support. "Thank you, Raf."
Landon snorted, still resentful, but he added a valid point. "And let's not leave out the fact that she's also an alpha werewolf and a ridiculously powerful witch," he muttered, perhaps more to himself than to the group.
Ethan , still close to Hope, smiled broadly at Landon's comment and added, looking directly at Hope with playful admiration, "And don't forget the most important part: she's the most beautiful girl in the world, too."
Hope rolled her eyes again at Ethan's blatant flattery, but she couldn't help the faint blush creeping up her neck. She cleared her throat, trying to bring seriousness back to the meeting. "Okay, enough distractions and flattery," she said, her voice reaching for firmness. "We need a plan. The Croatoan is the target, Landon is the most likely bait. We have to—"
After explaining the entire plan, Landon responded to it all, but not with anger this time. There was a tired resignation in his voice. "I... I need some time," he said, not looking directly at anyone. He looked at Rafael. "Let's go for a walk, Raf. I need to... think." The jumble of memories and bubbling jealousy were a knot in his stomach. He needed space.
Rafael nodded in understanding. He gave Hope one last quick look before following Landon out of the shed.
Lizzie watched them leave and shrugged. "Well, that's two less to worry about. Kaleb, Maya, let's go outside and check the barriers like the leader told us," she said. The three of them left as well.
Lizzie goes with them and keeps an eye on Landon, the monster will probably go after him, Hope said as she gestured for Lizzie to follow the two...
Okay, so I'm the werewolf's and the garden gnome's babysitter, everything is great in my life, Lizzie was pissed off with all of this.
Ethan laughed at all of this, finding it funny.
a few moments later.....
Hope and Ethan were left alone in the vast, dusty space. Hope let out a long sigh.
"You..." she began, turning to him. "Yesterday, at the square. I saw you near the Mystic Falls festival that was happening yesterday, walking away with a tool bag. Were you working?"
Ethan met her gaze. "Yeah," he confirmed simply. "I had a quick job there." He took a step closer. "But what about you? Are you okay?"
Hope gave a tired smile. "I'm as fine as anyone can be while hunting a Malivore monster that dissolves people and tears secrets from them," she joked.
Ethan's laugh was low. "Fair enough." He took her hand, their fingers intertwining. "Look, I know this probably isn't the best time for this," he began, his voice low, "with everything going on…"
Before she could finish, he wrapped her in another hug, softer, more comforting. Hope relaxed against him instantly. "Actually," she murmured against his chest, "it helps a little. It calms me down."
just a little? Ethan asked, pretending to have felt those words of hers.
Yes, just a little, Hope closes her eyes as she gives him a playful smile.
Ethan smiled against her hair. "That's because it feels so good to hear that coming out of your mouth," he said, pulling back slightly so he could look into her eyes. The intensity returned to his gaze, mixed with an urgency he could no longer contain. He held her tightly by the arms. "But before I go, I can make this a little better."
His lips met hers again, but this time it wasn't the quick, almost desperate kiss of before. It was deep, possessive, a tongue-in-cheek kiss that spoke of pent-up desire and the need to claim her. Ethan held her tightly, one hand sliding to the back of her neck, tilting her head, while the other held her close to his body. Hope gasped in surprise for a moment before melting completely into the kiss, responding with the same intensity, her hands coming up to grip his broad shoulders, lost in the overwhelming sensation of his lips and tongue moving together. The outside world faded away, leaving only the heat, the taste, and the electricity that passed between them.
When they finally broke apart, panting, their lips red and swollen, their eyes fixed on each other, the promise of what they felt hung heavy in the silent air of the shed.
"Maybe it'll be a little better this time, right?" Ethan murmured, his voice husky, his forehead still pressed against hers as he smiled to himself.
Hope , still trying to catch her breath and balance, could only nod, unable to form words.
He pulled away with visible reluctance, his eyes sweeping over her face one last time. "Take care, Kittie," he said, his voice firmer now, but still thick with emotion.
"You too, Ethan."
He turned and walked quickly to his Harley parked outside. He mounted, started the engine with a roar that echoed into the late afternoon, and set off down the dirt road, kicking up dust, in search of the Croatoan.
Hope stood still for a moment, her fingers tracing her lips, her heart still pounding. That kiss…it had been more intense than anything she'd ever felt. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she took a deep breath. Focus, Hope. Monster first, romantic complications later. She turned and began walking in the opposite direction, heading deeper into the woods surrounding the school, her mind focused on her mission, but her body still humming from Ethan's touch.
A few hours later
As the afternoon fell over the dark, silent forest surrounding the outskirts of Mystic Falls, Ethan rode his motorcycle slowly along the lesser-known trails, his headlights cutting through the darkness, his senses heightened in search of any sign of the Croatoan. Frustration was beginning to eat away at him; hours of searching and absolutely nothing. No strange smells other than that of damp earth and decaying leaves, no sounds out of place other than the call of owls and the occasional snapping of twigs.
He stopped the bike in the middle of a small clearing, turning off the engine and headlights, plunging the area into near-total darkness, except for the faint moonlight filtering through the treetops. He got off the bike, stretching his tense muscles. Where the hell had that thing gotten to? he thought irritably. Had Hope had better luck?
The moment the thought crossed his mind, the air around him grew heavy, icy. An invisible pressure seemed to descend upon the clearing, drowning out all sounds in the forest. Before Ethan could even react or comprehend what was happening, a wave of pure dark energy, visible as a distortion in the night air, surged from the shadows between the trees and hit him square in the chest with the force of a runaway truck.
The impact knocked the air from his lungs and threw him backward like a rag doll. He flew several feet before crashing hard into the thick trunk of an ancient oak tree. Pain exploded through his back and head, stars dancing before his eyes as he fell to the damp, leaf-strewn ground, gasping and disoriented.
"AGGH... What... the... fuck... was... that?!" he managed to choke out, trying to get up, his body protesting painfully with every movement, his head spinning. The dark energy had disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, leaving behind only the oppressive silence of the forest and the throbbing pain in his body. He looked around, his eyes trying to penetrate the darkness, but there was nothing there. Only the trees, the shadows, and the ominous feeling that he was definitely not alone anymore.
He looked around, straining his vision in the dim light. It was then that he caught a familiar scent beneath the damp earth—the metallic tang of blood and, fainter, the scent of Landon and Rafael. With a painful effort, he got to his feet and followed the scent for a few feet until he found the two boys lying near the base of another tree, clearly unconscious, probably hit by the same energy wave that had knocked him down. He ran to them, quickly checking their pulses. They were alive, but unconscious.
(While Ethan met Landon and Rafael, a few moments earlier, near the school...)
Hope and Lizzie stood tensely, facing the Croatoan in a clearing not far from the school grounds. The creature seemed to be enjoying them, its oppressive presence forcing trivial and embarrassing secrets to the surface.
"Seriously, Lizzie? You still sleep with that ridiculous teddy bear Daddy gave you when you were five?" Hope blurted out, covering her mouth immediately, shocked that she had said that out loud.
"And you still dream that you're flying on a pink unicorn named Glitter?" Lizzie retorted, equally horrified at her own forced indiscretion.
Before they could exchange any more awkward secrets, a figure stepped into the clearing. Josie. Her eyes were wide, focused on the Croatoan with feverish intensity. She raised her hands, ignoring Lizzie's calls, and began chanting in an ancient, powerful language neither of them recognized. A blinding light emanated from her, expanding rapidly, not only hitting the Croatoan (who hissed and recoiled), but sweeping across the entire area, all of Mystic Falls, and perhaps beyond. It was raw, immense magic that seemed to rewrite something fundamental.
The instant the light reached its peak, Hope felt a shockwave ripple through the world, as if a missing piece of the universe had been snapped back into place. And then, Josie collapsed, unconscious. Lizzie rushed to support her, while Hope felt a subtle but profound change in the air—and in herself. Everywhere, people who had forgotten Hope Mikaelson suddenly remembered. The memories came back, confusing, painful, overwhelming. Many, overwhelmed by the sudden flood of an erased past, also fainted.
(Cut back to Ethan in the forest)
Ethan was kneeling beside Landon and Rafael, trying to decide what to do, when he felt that strange surge of energy pass through him—the same one Josie had conjured moments before. He didn't pass out, perhaps because of his unique nature, but he felt the shift. It was subtle, like a missing musical note suddenly playing in the symphony of the world. He frowned, uncomprehending, but before he could ponder it, another smell hit his nostrils—the acrid, chemical smell of Croatoan, now mixed with something like burning ozone.
He stood up quickly, standing protectively in front of the unconscious boys. He looked to the side, in the direction the smell had come from, and there it was: the tall figure in the overcoat and hat, emerging from the thicker shadows between the trees, looking a little unsteady, perhaps affected by Josie's magic.
Ethan didn't even think twice. With a low growl, he rushed at the monster. His punches were fast and brutal, but as he suspected, they seemed to have little effect on the creature, like punching a stone wall. Croatoan just pushed him back with surprising force. Okay, physical strength doesn't do much good , Ethan quickly concluded. Time to try something else.
He wasn't a master of magic like Hope or the Saltzman twins, far from it, but he knew the basics, enough to defend himself or attack when necessary. Focusing his energy, he extended his hand and shouted, "Incendia!" A relatively small but intense ball of fire appeared in his palm and he launched it at the Croatoan.
This time, there was a reaction. The monster hissed in pain as the flames licked at its overcoat, retreating a few steps, clearly injured by the elemental magic.
It was then that Landon began to wake up, groaning softly. Josie's surge of magical energy, combined with the shock of the fight and perhaps the proximity of Ethan and the monster linked to Malivore, acted as an unexpected catalyst. The memories came rushing back: Hope. Their first meeting, their first kiss, their adventures, their confessions, the pain of losing her to Malivore, the confusion of the past few months…it all came flooding back to him, flooding his mind with overwhelming, painful clarity. He blinked, disoriented, and the first thing he saw clearly was Ethan, his back to him, facing the monster in the hat. And then the memories of the past few days came rushing back: Hope smiling at Ethan in the shed, their tight embrace, the way she had seemed so happy and light next to him. The image of her in his arms, so close, so intimate, made Landon's blood boil. A visceral hatred, fueled by the pain of rediscovered loss and raw jealousy, exploded in his chest. This guy... he thought, his fists clenched so tightly that his nails dug into his palms. He stole her from me. Hope is mine. Mine and no one else's! The urge to kill Ethan right then and there, to rip him to shreds for daring to touch what was his, was so strong that it left him shaking with pent-up rage.
Ethan, still focused on the Croatoan and unaware of the emotional storm that consumed Landon, prepared to cast another spell when he heard someone casting a powerful spell coming from the entrance to the clearing. It was Hope.
"Phasmatos Motus!" she screamed, and the Croatoan was suddenly frozen in place, held by an invisible force.
"Hope!" Ethan called over his shoulder, both relieved and surprised to see her. "I'm glad you're here! I'm terrible at magic!"
Hope rushed to his side, her eyes flicking over the awake (and visibly furious) Landon and the still unconscious Rafael before focusing on the paralyzed monster. "I noticed!" she replied with a tight smile, joining in the fun even in the midst of the battle. She saw the burn marks on the monster's coat. "Good job weakening him." Her eyes gleamed with power as she raised both hands. "But I think that's enough." She began to chant in Latin, her voice resonating with ancient strength. "Dissolvere ad Nihilum!"
An intense white light emanated from Hope's hands, enveloping the paralyzed Croatoan. The monster let out a high-pitched, unearthly scream as its body began to rapidly disintegrate, dissolving into particles of dark dust and black smoke that rose and dissipated into the night air, leaving absolutely nothing behind.
Silence fell over the clearing, broken only by the three's heavy breathing.
Landon, still shaking with rage and with newly recovered memories burning in his mind, took a step forward, his gaze fixed on Hope but his voice thick with accusation directed at them both. "HOPE MIKAELSON!" he shouted, her full name echoing through the silent forest like thunder. The strength in his voice made Hope and Ethan turn around sharply. "HOW DARE YOU CHEAT ON ME LIKE THIS?!"
Hope's mouth fell open, shock written all over her face. The blood seemed to drain from her veins. He remembered. He knew who she was. "Landon… do you… do you remember? Everything?" she asked, her voice cracking, a mix of fear and a spark of hope in her eyes. "How?"
Landon laughed, a dry, bitter sound that didn't match the boy she knew (or thought she knew). "What? I don't really know!" he spat out the words, gesturing wildly to the spot where the Croatoan had disappeared and to Rafael, still unconscious. "It was probably that dark magic that hit me and Rafael! The same one that brought everything back to me! All the memories of us… and you with him !" His gaze flicked toward Ethan, filled with a hatred and possessiveness that made Hope instinctively recoil.
Hope tried to speak, to defend herself, but Landon's words hit her like blows. "Cheating on me? Landon, you don't understand... You're with Josie now!" she said, her voice breaking, trying to make him see the reality, the confusion of the situation.
"WITH JOSIE?!" Landon screamed, his voice cracking with pure agony and rage. The pain of betrayal was an open wound, bleeding from his chest. "I DIDN'T KNOW ANYTHING, HOPE! NOTHING! If I hadn't forgotten everything, if Malivore hadn't erased you from my life, none of this would have happened! We would still be together! But you... you didn't even wait!" He turned to face Ethan, his eyes burning with murderous hatred. "YOU..." he growled, the word laced with venom. "YOU SON OF A BITCH!"
Blinded by pain and fury, Landon charged at Ethan like a raging bull. He didn't think about the consequences, about Ethan's supernatural strength, about the folly of what he was doing. He just wanted to take out his pain, his anger, on the man he saw as the thief of his happiness. He threw a punch with all the force he could muster, his fist colliding with Ethan's face with a loud crack.
Pain exploded in Landon's hand, a searing agony that nearly made him scream. He felt his bones crack under the impact, his skin tearing. He staggered back, clutching his broken hand to his chest, his eyes wide with pain and shock. He had nearly broken his hand in the process.
Ethan, however, barely moved. The punch had hit him, yes, but it had been like a pebble hitting a wall. He stood there, his face impassive, his eyes fixed on Landon, listening to the screams, the accusations, without saying a single word. Landon continued to curse him, calling him every name in the book—"thief," "traitor," "bastard," "monster"—his voice cracked with pain and anger, each word a desperate attempt to hurt the man he blamed for his loss. His eyes were broken, tears of pure pain and rage streaming down his face as he clutched his injured hand.
Hope brought her hand to her mouth, holding back a sob, tears streaming silently down her face. She looked from Landon, broken and furious, to Ethan, so calm and impassive, and her heart broke. Please, Ethan, don't hurt him anymore , she begged silently in her mind, fear for Landon mixed with confusion about her own feelings. She didn't want to see Landon suffer like this, but she also couldn't deny the strength of the connection she felt with Ethan.
Ethan finally looked away from Landon, his eyes meeting Hope's. He saw the concern on her face, the silent plea in her blue eyes. It seemed to pierce through his cool calm. He took a deep breath, the anger that had begun to bubble inside him receding at the look on her face. He was tired of hearing this guy talk like he was the villain of the story. Tired of Landon's pain being dumped on him.
"You don't understand, Landon," Ethan said finally, his voice low but sharp, laced with restrained frustration and a hint of contempt. "There are things you just don't understand. Greater forces at play." He took a step forward, closing the distance between them, the dangerous calm in his eyes making Landon instinctively recoil. "Hope wasn't meant for you. Never was."
"What?!" Landon gasped, disbelief mixed with anger.
"From the moment I first met Hope at the Salvatore School," Ethan continued, his voice growing thicker and hoarser, each word a hammer blow, "in my chest, in my soul, I knew. I knew she was the one for me, man. Destiny. The universe. Call it what you will." He smiled coldly, almost cruelly, a predatory glint in his eyes. "You?" he scoffed, his tone thick with derision. "You just happened to play along as her fling while I was away. A temporary replacement."
"Ethan, stop!" Hope yelled, stepping forward, her hands shaking. "Don't talk like that!"
But Ethan ignored her, his eyes fixed on Landon, relishing the pain he saw on the other boy's face. "Did you really think you had a chance? That what you had was 'epic'? Pathetic." He laughed, the sound dry and humorless. "She's mine, Landon. Always has been. And always will be. Accept that."
"HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE?!" Landon screamed, pain and disbelief mixed in his voice, his broken hand forgotten for a moment. "I'VE KNOWN HER THE LONGER! I LOVED HER FIRST! You... you just came along and seduced her! Took her away from me!" The accusation was raw, desperate, the logic distorted by the pain of betrayal and the confusion of memories returning in a world that was no longer the same.
Ethan laughed, a scornful sound that cut through the tense air of the clearing. "I took her away from you?" he repeated, his voice laced with cold scorn. "You have no idea what nonsense you just said, Landon." He took another step closer, his closeness overwhelming, his eyes shining with a dangerous light. "You don't know anything. You're just a pathetic man who has no ability to move on." His gaze raked Landon up and down with contempt. "You're already dating another girl, hanging on to Lizzie's sister's skirt, and yet you're still here, looking at Hope like you have some right to her after what you did?"
Ethan leaned in, his voice lowered to a venomous whisper, close to Landon's ear, making sure only he heard, but Hope, with her werewolf hearing, caught every cruel word. "I heard through the grapevine that you slept with Josie, right?" Ethan said, a smirk playing on his lips. "Don't feel too bad about it, Kirby. The same thing happened between me and Hope." He pulled back, watching with satisfaction as the color drained from Landon's face, the shock and pain etched in his eyes.
Lizzie, who had arrived quietly a few minutes earlier, drawn by the commotion and the magical energy, heard everything from the shadows of the trees. Her hands clenched tightly at her sides, anger rising in her chest. Ethan is being cruel , she thought, watching Landon, who was now crying openly, clutching his broken hand to his chest, his face contorted in pain.
"ETHAN, STOP THIS NOW!" Hope screamed again, her voice cracking with anger and pain. She couldn't believe what he was saying, how cruel he was treating Landon.
But Ethan didn't stop. His eyes glowed with a bright fluorescent green light, the same glow Hope had seen in his werewolf form, the glow that signaled that his inner wolf, the possessive, territorial beast, was in control at that moment. He glared at Hope, a feral gleam in his eyes, before turning his scorn on Landon, who stood paralyzed, his broken hand forgotten, the emotional pain overcoming the physical.
Landon's scream and the tension in the clearing finally woke Rafael up. He stood up with a groan, his head pounding, and took in the scene: Landon crying, Hope desperate, and Ethan... Ethan with those bright green eyes, emanating a dangerous aura. He remembered everything about Hope now too, the memories coming back with the same force that had hit Landon. "WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE, LANDON?" Rafael shouted, running to his friend.
Landon, sobbing, told him everything quickly—the memories, Hope, Ethan, the betrayal, the cruel words. Rafael listened, his face darkening with each word. Hatred boiled in his veins. He turned to Ethan, his eyes blazing. "You bastard!" he screamed, and lunged for Ethan, driven by loyalty to Landon and his own newfound grief.
Rafael was strong, an alpha werewolf, but Ethan was something else. Rafael managed to land a few blows—a punch to the stomach that made Ethan grunt, a kick to the leg that knocked him off balance for a moment. But Ethan was much stronger, faster. With one fluid, brutal movement, he dodged a right hook from Rafael and landed a clean blow to the werewolf's jaw. The impact was devastating. Rafael fell back, his eyes rolling back, and crumpled to the ground, unconscious again.
Ethan looked at Rafael's fallen body, then at Landon, who recoiled in horror. The animalistic rage inside him was rising uncontrollably. He began to growl, a low, guttural sound that vibrated in his chest. His hands began to shake, his nails lengthening into sharp black claws. He walked slowly toward Landon, each step heavy and menacing.
Hope's eyes widened, panic taking over her. "Ethan...no!" He was going to kill Landon. She could see it in his eyes, in the way his body shook with the impending transformation.
"Ethan, get a grip!" Lizzie yelled from the trees, finally stepping out of the shadows, her hands glowing with magic.
Hope and Lizzie acted together, instinctively. They raised their hands, channeling their magic, and cast a combined spell at Ethan—not to hurt, but to calm, to contain the beast. "Continue feram interiorem!" they shouted in unison.
The magic hit Ethan like a wave of cold energy. He stopped walking, his growl turning into a pained groan. He put his hands to his head, claws scratching at his scalp, as if he were fighting something inside him. The intense headache caused by the spell sent him crashing to his knees.
"Kill this idiot!" The voice growled in his mind, raw and savage—it was the wolf within, the beast he was only just beginning to understand. The voice demanded blood, revenge. "He dared to oppose us! He deserves death!"
"Shut the fuck up!" Ethan screamed into the void, at the voice in his head, clutching his temples tightly, claws still visible.
Hope and Lizzie exchanged wide-eyed, confused looks. "Who's he talking to?" Lizzie whispered, her eyes fixed on Ethan.
"I'm not going to kill anyone!" Ethan shouted again, his voice cracked with pain and internal struggle.
Then something changed. Ethan's posture slowly straightened, even though he was still on his knees. His fluorescent green eyes lost all trace of humanity, becoming cold, calculating, almost amused. A different voice came out of his mouth—still his own, but with an animalistic inflection, a low growl behind the words. "I always knew you were weak," the voice said, scornful. "Too focused on that simple girl." Ethan's eyes slowly shifted to Hope, who took a step back, her heart freezing. "What do you say I kill her and end this little game of teenage drama?"
Hope's eyes widened, terror filling her. This wasn't the Ethan she knew, the Ethan who had kissed her so passionately. This was something else. This was his wolf side, the beast he carried inside him, now speaking, threatening. I always knew he was different from normal werewolves , ** Hope thought, her blood running cold in her veins, but not that he had to fight something like this… something that could take control. The clearing seemed to grow even darker, the air heavy with the threat emanating from Ethan. **
The threat hung in the air, cold and sharp. Ethan's inner wolf, now given voice and momentary control, focused its glowing green eyes on Hope. A cruel smile twisted Ethan's lips. "Yeah… killing you would be… fun." He started to rise, claws still visible, body tense with feral energy.
But then something inside Ethan fought back. The human part of him, the part that loved Hope, that felt the Imprint with overwhelming force, roared in silent protest. He clapped his hands to his head again, a scream of agony tearing from his throat as the internal battle intensified. "NO!" Ethan's voice screamed, cracking, fighting the beast. "I won't hurt her!"
The wolf growled in his mind, furious at the resistance. "Weak! Sentimental!"
Hope and Lizzie watched, horrified and helpless. They exchanged a quick glance, the same question in their eyes: What to do? Attacking Ethan might hurt him permanently, but leaving him like this…it was unthinkable. They raised their hands again, ready to cast another spell, this time stronger. "Ethan, fight!" Hope screamed, her voice desperate.
With a monumental effort, Ethan managed to regain a shred of control. His green eyes flickered, alternating between feral gleam and human confusion. "Hope… Lizzie… run…" he managed to say hoarsely, before the beast tried to take control again. His body began to shake violently. The transformation was beginning again, but chaotically, out of control. His clothes began to tear as his muscles expanded alarmingly, his skin stretching, his bones cracking audibly. His height grew rapidly, surpassing seven feet, the form of a colossal werewolf beginning to assert itself once more.
He took a staggering step toward them, claws scraping the ground, a low growl vibrating in his chest. It was no longer the wolf's voice speaking, it was just the beast, ready to strike.
"ETHAN, STOP!" Hope screamed at the top of her lungs, her voice thick with fear and desperation, but also with an authority that made him hesitate.
The colossal werewolf froze in place, his head turned toward her, his glowing green eyes fixed on hers. For an instant, there seemed to be a flash of recognition, a struggle visible in his tense posture. He clenched his fists with tremendous force, his claws nearly piercing his own skin. Then, in a desperate act of will, in a last-ditch effort to protect Hope and the others from himself, he raised one of his massive fists. With a roar of pain and self-directed fury, he brought a powerful uppercut to his own jaw. The impact was brutal. The werewolf's head snapped to the side, and he crumpled to the ground like a felled tree, his immense body slamming into the earth.
The transformation was reversed almost instantly. The dark fur receded, the muscles shrank, the claws retracted. Where the colossal beast had once stood, Ethan now lay, completely naked, unconscious, his human body vulnerable beneath the moonlight.
Hope ran to him, kneeling beside him, her hands shaking as she checked his breathing. It was there, faint but steady. Tears of relief and terror streamed down her face.
Lizzie approached hesitantly, her eyes wide, flicking from the unconscious Ethan to Hope and then back again. She was silent for a moment, processing the scene—the fight, the transformation, the self-inflicted knockout. Then her eyes inevitably fell on Ethan's exposed anatomy. Her mouth dropped open in a perfect 'O' of genuine shock. "Oh. My. God," she whispered, her eyes wide as saucers. "Hope… his… his stick… is… abnormally large!" The remark came out unfiltered, direct, typical Lizzie, breaking the dramatic tension with a dose of comic shock and perhaps a little unintentional admiration. She turned to Hope, who was trying to cover Ethan with his own jacket, her face red as a beetroot. "Seriously, how did you keep that inside you?!" Lizzie asked, the blatant and wholly inappropriate question hanging in the air.
Hope blushed even redder, if that was possible, burying her face in her hands in sheer embarrassment and exasperation. "LIZZIE!" she muffledly cried.
Landon, who had been watching the whole thing paralyzed with fear and pain, heard Lizzie's comment. The words hit him like a final devastating blow. The mental image Lizzie's question conjured—Hope and Ethan together, this intimate—shattered what was left of his heart. He squeezed his eyes shut, the tears streaming again, the pain of betrayal and inadequacy consuming him completely. He felt small, insignificant, defeated. The world around him seemed to collapse.