September 2nd, 1001 AD
The room was thick with tension, the kind that clung to the walls like mist. In Esther's spell room, the air crackled as pages of ancient books flipped at lightning speed beneath her frantic hands. Candles flickered, casting shadows that danced like spirits across the walls. The heavy scent of burning herbs filled the space.
Mikael stood behind her, arms folded, eyes cold but curious. "Esther… if this was the solution… why didn't you think of it before?"
Esther didn't look up, didn't stop. Her fingers traced symbols and runes, her lips muttering words of power beneath her breath. "You had rushed me into casting that spell, Mikael," she snapped, voice sharp like the blade that had ended them all. "There was no time to think, only to act."
Mikael grunted, his jaw clenching. His gaze flicked toward the closed door where their children waited. "And now they suffer for it."
In the sitting room, the siblings huddled together, the glow of dawn still haunting their minds.
Finn sat stiffly, staring at the floor. Elijah leaned forward, elbows on his knees, brows furrowed. Kol sprawled on the couch like he always did, trying to seem unbothered. Rebekah hugged a pillow to her chest, her lips tight, eyes darting toward the windows as if the sun might break through and scorch them again.
"I've never felt anything like that before," Kol muttered, rubbing his arms where the burns had healed. "Like my skin was set aflame."
Elijah nodded grimly. "It was the sun. Whatever Mother did to us, we're bound to the night now. But…" His gaze flicked toward Hayley, out of sight behind them. "The sun didn't burn her. I suspect it's because she's still a Werewolf. That side of her protects her."
Behind them, nestled in a lounge chair hidden from view, Klaus sat with Hayley on his lap, his arms loosely draped around her waist. They whispered like conspirators in love.
"My body feels… different," Hayley complained, shifting, trying to get comfortable. "Like, I don't know — stronger? Lighter? But like, heavy at the same time?"
Klaus grinned, watching her wiggle, his eyes darkening with amusement and something deeper. "Keep that up, Little Wolf, and I'm not responsible for what happens next."
Hayley smirked, mischief dancing in her golden eyes. She shifted again, deliberately this time, grinding just slightly. "What? This?" she teased, her voice a velvet purr.
Klaus groaned softly, his hands tightening around her waist. "You're a menace."
She giggled but didn't stop. "Guess things are still working the same, then, hmm?"
Before Klaus could deliver some wicked remark of his own, the door slammed open with a burst of magic-fueled wind that rattled the room. The candles flickered wildly.
Esther stood in the doorway, a wild gleam in her eye, holding up a small, rune-carved ring. "Daylight Rings!" she announced triumphantly, her voice echoing like a goddess delivering salvation. "I've found the solution to the sun!"
Mikael strode in behind her, his gaze sharp as a blade — and it fell instantly on Klaus and Hayley.
Hayley froze, still perched in Klaus' lap, her smirk fading as Mikael's eyes narrowed.
"Romancing a wolf when you should be mourning your humanity, boy?" Mikael sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. His fists clenched at his sides.
Before Klaus could rise to defend himself, before Hayley could move away, Esther snapped her fingers, silencing Mikael with a flick of magic. "Enough, Mikael." Her eyes softened — but only slightly. "We've bigger matters than your petty hatred. Come. We'll fit these rings, and you'll walk in the light once more."
Klaus helped Hayley to her feet, his hand lingering in hers just a moment longer than it should, as Mikael glared and the siblings exchanged wide-eyed looks.
The siblings gathered in the spell room, the air heavy with incense and ancient magic. Esther stood at the center, a table before her covered in bowls of rare herbs, powdered stones, and small vials of blood-red liquid. The rings — six of them — lay in a perfect circle, each carved with symbols that glowed faintly in the candlelight.
Esther lifted her hands, eyes closing as she began to chant.
"Illorian dos aiya, sol ashal ti'dra. Vinia kalen thros, erathas lumina…"
The rings lifted from the table, suspended in the air, spinning slowly as if caught in a silent wind. Sparks of golden light arced between them, dancing over the runes, seeping into the metal.
Mikael watched from the shadows, his jaw tight, his arms crossed. His gaze darted between the rings and Klaus, who stood near Hayley, their shoulders brushing, fingers occasionally grazing as they reached for the same object — like they couldn't help but touch.
"You should be grateful, boy," Mikael spat, his voice low but venomous. "Not wasting time fawning over that mutt when your mother is saving your miserable life."
Klaus's fists clenched, but before he could reply, Hayley stepped slightly in front of him, her eyes blazing with fury. "Don't talk to him like that."
Mikael's eyes darkened. "She's already got you on a leash, I see."
But before his insults could cut deeper, Esther's voice boomed through the room as magic crackled around her. "Silence!" With a wave of her hand, Mikael staggered back as though struck by unseen force.
The rings dropped gently back onto the table, now humming softly, filled with the magic of the sun. Esther breathed hard, her power spent. "They're ready," she whispered. "Put them on. But heed this — if you kill, if you lose control, these rings won't save you."
Morning broke over the trees, light spilling like liquid gold onto the earth. The family stood at the threshold of their home, hesitant. Finn, ever cautious, eyed the sun like it was an enemy. Rebekah clutched her ring, swallowing hard.
"I don't know about this," she murmured.
Elijah gave her hand a squeeze. "We must try."
One by one, they stepped into the light — and gasped as warmth touched their skin but didn't burn. The sun kissed their faces, their arms, their hair, and no flame erupted, no agony followed. Instead, the light felt… good. Alive.
Kol whooped with joy, spinning in a circle, arms wide. "We're gods!" he laughed. "Day gods!"
Hayley grinned, turning her face to the sky, feeling the sun without fear for the first time since that awful night. Klaus watched her, his heart full — but before he could say anything, Mikael's voice cut through their peace.
"Gods?" Mikael sneered, stepping onto the porch. "You're nothing but abominations. Foul creatures made by my hand… and for what? To prance about in daylight?"
The siblings stilled, the joy draining from their faces. Klaus stepped forward, jaw tight. "We didn't ask for this, Father. But it is what we are. And we will survive. Together."
Mikael laughed bitterly. "Survive? Perhaps. But at what cost, Niklaus? You are nothing but the spawn of betrayal. No magic ring will change that."
Hayley moved to Klaus's side again, defiance burning in her gaze. "He's more than that. And he has me."
Esther appeared then, placing a gentle but firm hand on Mikael's arm. "Enough, Mikael. Enough hate. Let them have this day. Let them live."
For a heartbeat, Mikael looked as if he might strike out — but something in Esther's eyes, or perhaps the power of the sun glinting off their rings, made him falter. With a snarl, he turned away, storming back into the house.
The siblings exhaled, relief flooding them. Rebekah laughed softly, Kol clapped Klaus on the back, and Elijah simply stood, silent, watching his family stand unburned beneath the sky.
Klaus turned to Hayley, their hands finding each other again. "Shall we make the most of it?" he whispered, a grin tugging at his lips.
Hayley smirked. "Race you to the river."
And before he could answer, she took off, laughter trailing behind her — Klaus right at her heels, the sun finally theirs.
The river glittered like liquid diamonds beneath the sun, its gentle song harmonizing with the whisper of the breeze through the trees. Hayley skidded to a stop at the water's edge, breathless, laughing, hair wild around her face as she turned to look for him.
But Klaus wasn't right behind her.
Oh no. He was slower on purpose.
He emerged from the trees like a predator on the prowl, his grin dangerous, his eyes darkened not by bloodlust but by something deeper. His gaze drank her in — wild, free, radiant under the sun.
"You think you can tease me like that back at the house," Klaus growled playfully, voice low, "and not expect revenge?"
Hayley's breath hitched, her back pressing against the rough bark of a towering tree as he closed the space between them in a heartbeat. His hands found her waist, firm and sure, pinning her gently but with no chance to escape — not that she wanted to.
"Klaus…" she breathed, but whatever thought followed was lost when his lips found hers.
The kiss was hungry, fierce, but full of that unspoken love that had simmered between them for so long. His mouth traced from her lips down to her jaw, to the sensitive skin of her neck, where he nipped just enough to make her gasp.
"Mine," he whispered, a promise and a prayer.
His hands slipped lower, lifting her just enough so her legs wrapped around his waist, his body pressing her against the tree. His kisses blazed a path lower — collarbone, the hollow of her throat, the swell of her chest. Hayley's head fell back, eyes fluttering shut, hands tangled in his hair as the world melted away.
But Klaus wasn't done.
He eased her down, pulling her by the hand through the sun-dappled woods until they reached an open field, the grass soft beneath their feet, the sky endless above them.
"Here," he said, voice thick with want. "Where the world can see how perfect you are."
Hayley barely had time to respond before Klaus knelt before her, his hands reverent as they slid up her thighs, pushing her skirts higher, higher, until she stood bare to him under the sun.
And then he showed her what true worship was.
His mouth, his hands, his everything — claiming her, adoring her, driving her to the edge again and again. The breeze carried her moans through the field, mingling with the sighing grass and the song of the river nearby.
The sun bore witness as Klaus made good on every promise his eyes had ever made.
Liquid gold poured across Klaus's bronzed skin as afternoon light filtered through ancient oak leaves, each ray igniting fire beneath Hayley's reverent touch. His mouth carved worship along the divine architecture of her body—hip bones like altar stones, the sacred hollow of her throat where her pulse hammered wild hymns. His hands were both sculptor and supplicant, molding her curves with desperate artistry while surrendering completely to her gravitational pull.
Her breathing fractured into desperate gasps, ribs expanding like wings preparing for flight. That wicked smile bloomed across her lips—equal parts angel and temptress—as she pressed her palms against his chest and guided him down into the emerald sanctuary of grass beneath them.
"My turn to make you forget your own name," she purred, voice like whiskey smoke and midnight promises.
Klaus's obsidian eyes flashed surprise before melting into liquid trust, his vulnerability more intoxicating than any power he'd ever wielded. She descended with predatory grace, her breath painting fire across his fevered skin before her lips sealed around him with devastating tenderness.
The first touch of her tongue sent electricity crackling through his neural pathways—slow, deliberate spirals that rewrote his entire understanding of pleasure. His fingers became desperate anchors in her chestnut waves, grounding him as reality tilted on its axis.
She orchestrated his undoing with masterful precision—each flick of her tongue a brushstroke on the canvas of his surrender, every gentle suction pulling moans from depths he didn't know existed. Her eyes found his in that sacred space where souls lay bare, holding his gaze as she took him deeper into her velvet heat.
"Hayley," her name escaped his lips like a prayer, like a curse, like the only word that mattered in any language ever spoken.
She hummed against him, the vibration nearly shattering his last threads of control. Her hands mapped the landscape of his thighs, fingernails tracing abstract patterns that branded him as surely as any mark. When she pulled back to trace the sensitive ridge with the tip of her tongue, Klaus's back arched off the earth, his control splintering like glass.
"Not yet," she whispered against his heated skin, her breath alone nearly enough to finish him. "I want to taste every sound you make."
She returned to her beautiful torment, alternating between gentle worship and demanding pressure until Klaus was nothing but sensation and need. His hands fisted in the grass beside his head, earth cool against his palms while fire consumed everything else.
The afternoon stretched elastic around them, time bending to accommodate this perfect agony. Birds called overhead, wind whispered through leaves, but all Klaus could hear was the symphony of her mouth claiming him, the wet sounds of her devotion mixing with his increasingly desperate pleas.
When she finally granted him mercy, taking him fully into her throat with a soft moan of her own, Klaus shattered like starlight—crying her name to the indifferent sky as pleasure crashed through him in devastating waves.
She gentled him through the aftershocks with tender kisses pressed to his hipbones, his trembling thighs, anywhere her lips could reach. When she finally crawled up his body to claim his mouth, he tasted salt and satisfaction on her tongue.
"Beautiful," she murmured against his lips, smoothing his sweat-dampened hair back from his forehead. "You're so beautiful when you let go."
Klaus rolled them over in one fluid motion, pinning her beneath him with renewed hunger blazing in his eyes. "Your turn to forget everything but my name," he growled, already working his way down her body with single-minded determination.
The golden afternoon stretched endlessly ahead of them, and they had nothing but time to explore every way they could worship each other under the approving gaze of the ancient oaks.
Hayley's breath caught as Klaus's mouth blazed a path of destruction down her throat, teeth grazing her collarbone with just enough pressure to make her arch beneath him. His hands weren't gentle anymore—they were claiming, possessive, fingers digging into her hips with bruising intensity that made her blood sing.
"You think you can drive me to the edge and walk away unscathed?" His voice was gravel and smoke, accent thick with arousal. "I'm going to make you scream my name until it's carved into your soul."
His mouth descended with predatory hunger, tongue flicking against her most sensitive places with relentless precision. No teasing now—just raw, devastating skill that had her clawing at his shoulders, her nails leaving crescent moons in his skin.
"Klaus—oh God, Klaus—" The words tore from her throat as he increased the pressure, his mouth working her with an intensity that bordered on violent in its perfection. Her thighs trembled around his head, muscles coiling tight as piano wire.
He pulled back just enough to look up at her, eyes blazing with dark satisfaction at her wrecked expression. "That's it, love. Let me hear you fall apart."
When he returned to his task, it was with doubled fervor—tongue and lips and the edge of his teeth working in devastating harmony until Hayley was nothing but sensation and desperate need. Her hands fisted in his hair, pulling hard enough to make him groan against her, the vibration pushing her closer to the precipice.
"Please," she gasped, beyond pride, beyond anything but the fire consuming her from within. "Please, Klaus, I need—"
"I know what you need," he growled, and proved it by driving her over the edge with ruthless efficiency. She shattered with a cry that sent birds scattering from the trees, her body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her.
But Klaus wasn't finished. As she trembled through the aftershocks, he rose above her like some ancient god of war and desire, positioning himself at her entrance with deliberate slowness.
"Look at me," he commanded, voice rough with barely leashed control. "I want to see your eyes when I take you."
Their gazes locked as he pushed into her with one devastating thrust, claiming her completely. Hayley's back arched off the ground, a breathless sob escaping her lips as he filled her utterly, stretching her in ways that made stars explode behind her eyelids.
"Mine," he whispered against her ear, pulling back only to drive forward again with punishing force. "Say it."
"Yours," she breathed, meeting his thrusts with her own desperate rhythm. "Always yours."
The pace became brutal, primal—two forces of nature colliding in perfect destruction. Grass stained their skin, earth mixed with sweat, and still they moved together like they were trying to merge into one being. Klaus's hands gripped her wrists, pinning them above her head as he drove into her with relentless intensity.
"Harder," she demanded, eyes blazing with wild hunger. "Don't you dare hold back."
He obeyed with a growl that was more animal than human, giving her everything—his strength, his need, his complete surrender to the fire between them. The sound of their bodies meeting echoed through the clearing, accompanied by their ragged breathing and increasingly desperate moans.
When Hayley's second climax hit, it was with the force of a hurricane, her entire body convulsing around him as she screamed his name to the sky. The sight and sound of her complete abandon finally shattered Klaus's control, and he followed her over the edge with a roar that seemed to shake the very earth beneath them.
They collapsed together in the aftermath, hearts hammering against ribs, lungs burning as they fought to remember how to breathe. The late afternoon sun painted them in amber and gold, two warriors who had found their perfect match in each other's arms.
The peaceful hum of the clearing shattered like glass when Mikael's voice ripped through the air, cruel and booming.
"Niklaus! Where the hell did you go, boy?!" His words cracked like a whip, venom dripping from every syllable.
Klaus and Hayley froze, their golden bubble of bliss popping in an instant. Their eyes met—wide, breathless, oh crap.
Without a word, they scrambled up, fumbling for their clothes like kids caught sneaking out. Klaus grabbed his tunic, Hayley yanked her dress over her head, and with shared panic they vamp-speeded toward the Mikaelson homestead, the world blurring past them in streaks of green and gold.
They skidded to a halt in the front yard where Mikael stood, arms crossed, eyes stormy and suspicious. Beside him, Elijah, Kol, Finn, and Rebekah turned as the pair appeared, slightly rumpled, flushed from both the run and the very obvious before.
It wasn't until they stood in front of their family that Klaus and Hayley realized: their clothes weren't fully adjusted. Hayley's dress was skewed at the neckline, Klaus's shirt was inside out, and both were out of breath, hair wild.
Mikael's eyes narrowed, a slow, malicious smirk tugging at his lips.
"Ah, I see what's kept you, boy. Couldn't keep your pants on?"
Elijah's jaw clenched. Without missing a beat, he shot his father a sharp look and smacked the back of his arm.
"Leave it, father." His voice was calm, but it carried weight, protective and warning all at once.
Hayley, cheeks burning with frustration and lingering heat, straightened up, smoothing her dress at last.
"I should go home," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. Then, without waiting, she grabbed Klaus's hand and started walking, tugging him along. Klaus blinked, caught off guard, but let himself be "dragged"—truth was, he'd follow her anywhere.
Once they were out of sight, walking along the wooded path, Hayley squeezed his hand a little tighter, her voice quieter now, vulnerable.
"Klaus… Can you come with me?" she asked, eyes downcast as the leaves crunched beneath their feet. "I—I'd just feel safer. I didn't go home last night, you know… and my father… he scares me. He always has."
Klaus's heart twisted at her words, his protective instinct roaring to life. He stopped, pulling her gently to face him, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face.
"Of course I'll come with you, little wolf," he said softly, eyes blazing with quiet promise. "I'd rather die than let him lay a hand on you."
The tension in her shoulders eased just a little, and together they continued on—two hearts, a little bruised but beating strong, ready to face whatever storm waited at the Labonair doorstep.