[ CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN]

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1492, England

The singing of rowdy drunkards filled the crowded tavern, everyone appeared to be in good spirits, toasting their steins of ale joyously

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The singing of rowdy drunkards filled the crowded tavern, everyone appeared to be in good spirits, toasting their steins of ale joyously.

A bard on a low-lit stage was playing a lute, singing pretty words of beautiful women and brutal battles.

Even Klaus seemed to be in a good mood, despite his confrontation with Katerina and Astrid in the gardens earlier that day.

It almost seemed as if nothing could diminish his pleasant mood.

Two days, two days and he would finally be rid of the binding curse his mother had cast upon him almost five-hundred years ago when her sins had surfaced.

The wolf that was supressed deep inside him, desperately clawing for some way out, would finally be released.

He would be the most powerful supernatural being in the world, a hybrid, half-vampire, half-werewolf. He would truly be indestructible.

They no longer would need to run from Mikael, they would no longer need to cower in the shadows in fear of Mikael locating them, they would finally be free.

Taking a sip of his strong ale, Klaus licked the droplets from his lips as he placed the large stein back on the oak table.

Throwing his head back in amusement, a laugh falling from his shapely lips, Klaus payed little attention to the tavern door opening, instead focusing on the amusing story from one of his inner-circle lackeys.

Tommy, a three-hundred-year-old vampire, was speaking of the time he had entered a church whilst human, completely intoxicated, and had mistaken one of the shy old nuns for a prostitute.

The soft chime of the bell rang across the room but was easily drowned out by the loud chatter and the soft singing of the bard.

Stepping into the establishment, Trevor ignored the clawing insistence in his stomach that yelled at him to turn around, that it wasn't too late.

Shaking his head, Trevor clenched his jaw, he needed to focus. He had to do this.

Eyes scanning the room, Trevor immediately spotted the head of blonde curls he was looking for.

Klaus wasn't hard to find, sat in the middle of the room, surrounded by a large group of his inner-circle, warlock and vampires alike.

As he neared the table, Trevor slowly felt the atmosphere change in the room, a few of the inner circle turning their narrowed gaze towards him.

Trevor resisted the urge of running back with his tail tucked between his legs as Tommy paused. He seemed to have been telling Klaus something, which had made the original chuckle.

Narrowing his soulless, brown eyes, Tommy scowled.

Clearing his throat nervously, adams apple bobbing, Trevor spoke up. "L-Lord Klaus."

𝐖𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄, klaus mikaelsonWhere stories live. Discover now