Forever Original | Alaric Saltzman

Chapter 20

It was saddening to hear that the second public event she'd attend would be a funeral.

"What?" she gasped. "Who died?"

"Father Kieran," said Elijah. "He was the uncle of the bartender at Rousseau's— Camille. You saw her in passing the other day."

"Oh my... the girl that Nik seems to fancy?"

He nodded. "The witches cursed him. He was turned into a vampire and... Niklaus had to kill him so that the man wouldn't murder his niece. It was a mercy killing."

This certainly put a damper on things.

For the past few days, Hilda had been feeling unwell. Physically, of course, she was healthy. She could not get sick. However, her mind seemed intent on plaguing her with terrible dreams.

The first night, she dreamed she'd been back in Hawaii, relaxing in her room and listening to music. There had been a knock on the door and she went to open it, thinking it was the maid.

Instead, it had been Mikael.

She tried to shut the door, but he forced his way in, holding the White Oak stake. "Wretched, disappointment of a child," he snarled, making her stumble back. "You, my blood, decided to call that hybrid bastard your brother? It's pitiful."

"Get away from me," she said shakily, scrambling back.

Hilda never cowered in a fight. In fact, she sought out conflict often, because it helped to ease her mind. Violence brought her peace of mind. Sometimes, she knew fights were not worth it, so she simply wouldn't retaliate. But Hilda Mikaelson never flinched.

However, every time she saw Mikael, it was though she suddenly couldn't think. All she wanted to do was get away, and she'd recoil, she'd lose whatever courage she had inside of her, expecting a blow in the face.

He seized her by the throat and threw her across the room. Her body hit a mirror and it shattered all over. She whimpered and tried to run, but he yanked her back by the hair, pulling her up and smacking her. "What a disgrace of a daughter," he sneered. "I expected you would turn out better than Rebekah, and yet, you are back in the home of that half-breed and are aiding him in becoming a father as if that child isn't ruined enough with wolf genes in its blood."

"Let me go!" she cried, trying to claw at him.

He held the White Oak stake over her chest. "I should rid the world of you. Let you join your brat of a twin in Hell—"

Someone shoved Mikael back, and Hilda was dropped to the floor. She saw Kol tackling him to the ground. "Hilly, wake up!" her twin yelled. "WAKE UP!"

She shot up in her bed, face beaded with sweat. Shakily, she had gone to get water, and had not slept for the rest of the night.

The pattern had continued the next night. Mikael had appeared on the beach and had nearly staked her. Once more, Kol had saved her and she'd forced herself awake, her entire body shaking.

But last night had been different. Kol had not arrived. Mikael had tossed Hilda around in a battered shack that she'd once lived in during the 1600s. She'd screamed and tried to wake up, but she hadn't been able to until Mikael had driven the stake into her heart.

"Hilda, are you alright?" asked Elijah.

She blinked, recalling that she was still in the middle of a conversation. "I'm fine. Just... the prospect of a funeral isn't doing too well in my mind. We never had a proper one for Kol and... I haven't been to one in a long time, is all."

He offered her a reassuring smile and a pat on the back. "You needn't feel obligated to attend, sister."

"I want to go. For Camille. I should probably introduce myself to her properly."