WAR OF HEARTS ↠ KOL MIKAELSON [UNDER EDITING]

1:09

[ THE RISE: CHAPTER NINE ]

Rhea, Davina, and Kol had checked into a dingy motel in the middle of nowhere, trying to lay low after recent events. Much to Rhea's dismay, Kol had refused to leave her side, shadowing her every move.

Davina was in her own room, sensing the tension between the two and giving them space. This left Rhea standing in front of a broken mirror, her frustration palpable as she tried to repair the damage Kol had done to their de-linking spell.

"Veretres en un sondre. Veretres en un sondre," she chanted under her breath, her focus sharp until Kol sauntered out of the bathroom, shirt hanging open to reveal his bare chest. She kept her gaze stubbornly on the mirror, but his presence gnawed at her concentration.

"Still at it?" Kol's voice, lazy and amused, startled her enough that the mirror cracked further.

She turned on him, irritation flaring. "I'm trying to fix what you ruined with your help." Her tone was sharp, matching the edges of the broken glass.

Kol raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Oh."

His gaze fell to the white oak stake on the table, the weapon she and Davina had been vigilantly guarding. Rhea's hand instinctively closed around it, pulling it off the table. "The only reason we're stuck in this dump is because, as much as I hate to admit it, we need your knowledge. Your freaky witch-encyclopedia mind is useful." Her words were cutting, meant to wound, but she noticed the shadows under his eyes—he was just as drained as she was.

Kol's lips curved into a smirk, ignoring the jab. "Here's a magical secret from the ancient Romani psychics—sleep, Rhea. You've been awake for days."

She started packing her things, unwilling to engage in his banter. "Hard to rest with a thousand years of betrayal weighing on me—and a complete ass standing next to me."

"You wound me." Kol's mock hurt only irritated her further.

Rhea spun to face him, her voice tight. "Can you just stop?"

"Stop what, darling?"

"Stop calling me darling! I'm not one of those harlots who threw themselves at you for centuries!" She gestured toward his still-open shirt with an exasperated wave. "And stop that."

Kol, with his trademark smirk, started buttoning his shirt slowly. "Rest assured, love, you've always been the only one for me. And as for the chest—well, most girls would appreciate this view. But then again, you've never been like most girls."

"What I'd appreciate," she spat, "is for you to stop messing around for once in your life!"

She resumed pacing, the movement a clear sign of her mounting frustration. Kol knew her better than anyone—he could read her like a book. But Rhea was a mess of emotions. Anger at Kol's betrayal clashed with the undeniable relief of having him back. Happiness that he was alive, intertwined with a burning resentment for everything that had led them here. She wasn't sure how to feel, and it was driving her mad.

Kol's voice softened, the playfulness ebbing away. "Alright, Rhea. Yes, I lied. I betrayed you, tried to charm you to figure out what you were planning. But your resistance? That's impressive. And baffling. You've changed."

Rhea's brow furrowed, a storm of thoughts brewing behind her eyes. She waited for him to continue.

"But if we're going to do something big—if we're going to take down Klaus without Davina's friends dying—you know I'm your best shot."

She rolled her eyes. "I don't care about your wounded ego, Kaleb." The name slipped out in her frustration. She hesitated. "Kol. I don't even know who you are anymore."

"I've always been Kol Mikaelson. Your Kol Mikaelson. And you know I'm right about Klaus."

Before Rhea could respond, Kol collapsed to his knees, groaning in pain. Rhea rushed to him, her heart pounding. She saw symbols burned into his skin—his name in Norse runes and a triskelion, glowing angrily on his forearm.

"Your mother's doing?" Rhea asked, her voice tight with concern.

Kol could only nod, grimacing.

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The drive back to the French Quarter was quiet, the tension between them thick enough to cut. Rhea gripped the steering wheel tightly, her gaze flicking every now and then toward Kol, who sat clutching his arm, pain etched into his features. Davina was in the back, her mind elsewhere, likely formulating plans of her own.

The car's speakers crackled to life, the familiar voice of Ed Sheeran filling the space. Kol, ever the agitator, used his magic to change the music to some old blues tune that he knew Rhea despised.

Rhea shot him a look, but there was a flicker of amusement in her eyes.

Davina, growing tired of their back-and-forth, reached forward and turned the radio off. "Can we not?"

Kol chuckled, turning to face her. "Don't you ever have fun with magic, or is it all angst and child sacrifice with you?"

Rhea rolled her eyes, though a part of her admired how effortlessly he could push people's buttons.

Davina wasn't fazed. "You were a witch before you were a vampire, right?"

Kol's playful expression dimmed slightly, the shift in conversation steering toward something deeper. "Yeah, I was. None of my siblings had tapped into their power. I was a bit of a child prodigy. I loved it—the power, the rush. Then when we turned, I lost it all. I went through a dark period."

Davina raised an eyebrow. "A thousand years is more than just a 'dark period.'"

Kol shrugged. "I'm a thrill-seeker. When magic couldn't give me that thrill anymore, I looked elsewhere."

His gaze lingered on Rhea, the weight of his words not lost on her. There had always been something more between them, even in their darkest days.

"He wasn't as bad as everyone makes him out to be," Rhea interjected, her voice quiet but firm. For the first time, she looked directly at Kol, something unspoken passing between them.

Kol's eyes softened as he looked at her, admiration clear on his face. And for a moment, Rhea allowed herself to meet his gaze. It felt like a lifeline, a glimpse of what they once were—before everything went wrong.

Davina, observing them both, couldn't help but marvel at the unspoken bond they shared. It was undeniable—Kol Mikaelson had always been in love with Rhea Monroe. And even now, despite everything, that love still simmered beneath the surface.

Kol's voice pulled them all back to reality. "My mother brought me back as a witch for a reason. She thought I'd be best suited for the task at hand... spying on the most beautiful witch in town." He nudged Rhea lightly, his smirk returning.

Davina laughed. "I can't believe your mom sent you here to flirt with your own girlfriend."

Kol grinned. "Oh no, the flirting bit was all me."

Silence settled over the car, but this time, it wasn't uncomfortable. Kol flicked his fingers, and Ed Sheeran's voice returned to the speakers.

Rhea turned to him, a smile spreading across her face—a real smile, one Kol hadn't seen in what felt like centuries. And in that moment, he knew that no matter how much darkness they'd endured, they still had a chance.

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