WAR OF HEARTS ↠ KOL MIKAELSON [UNDER EDITING]

1:01

[ THE RISE: CHAPTER ONE ]

It had been years since Rhea Monroe had set foot in the French Quarter, but something about Davina Claire's relentless attempts to contact her had piqued her curiosity. The little witch had been practically clawing for any sign of her, and Rhea couldn't deny she was intrigued. Why did Davina need her so badly?

As Rhea made her way through the streets, she couldn't shake the unsettling sensation in the air. The French Quarter felt like a powder keg waiting to explode, as if she'd just wandered into the middle of a war zone. She followed the pull of Davina's magic until she spotted the petite girl up ahead, chanting—at a car? Great, Rhea thought, I hope she's not as crazy as the rest of the New Orleans witches.

"Davina Claire," Rhea called out, her voice smooth but sharp. "Just the person I was hoping to bump into."

Davina's head snapped up, her mouth falling open in shock. She clearly hadn't expected the infamous Rhea Monroe to show up out of the blue. "Rhea?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Rhea smirked, nodding slightly. "The one and only. Now, let's skip the pleasantries—what on earth do you want with me?" Her tone turned cold, her brow raised as she crossed her arms. Her stance made it clear she wasn't one to be trifled with.

Before Davina could respond, her attention shifted to something behind Rhea. Rhea followed her gaze to see a vampire—Davina's friend, if she assumed correctly—stumbling toward them, looking half-dead.

"I promise I'll explain everything," Davina said, her voice hurried but determined. "But for now, keep your presence here a secret. Go to St. Anne's church, to the attic. I know it sounds strange, but trust me, I'm going to make you an offer you won't want to refuse."

Rhea studied the younger witch for a moment, her expression unreadable. There was a fire in Davina's eyes, a determination that Rhea couldn't help but admire. She glanced back at the vampire, who seemed to be on the verge of collapse, and let out a sigh.

"Davina Claire," Rhea said, her voice dangerously low, "you'd better not be wasting my time. If you are, I'll tear out your tongue—no magic needed."

With that, she turned and walked away, leaving Davina to deal with her dying friend. But as Rhea disappeared into the shadows, she couldn't help but feel that whatever Davina had in mind, it was going to change everything.