𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐅𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄. All in the last four and a half days Deena was held captive, Cami was drained of blood. Jackson's heart extracted from his chest. And Mr. Núñez was brutally mutilated because...I killed him.

Their deaths were avenged and some form justice was served. The newly turned vampires were burned alive, dark smoky flames were spotted near the church but their screams were silent. Tristan now suffered somewhere at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean, drowning over and over again. But Deena remained a free woman.

The news reported an explosion after calls came in about a gas leak. Nothing but ash and bones were discovered. It was almost like her time spent was merely a lucid dream and she hadn't been exploited in some get-rich-quick scheme that almost cost her life, though scars beneath her healed skin said otherwise. Not seen but lingered a scorching burn, that made every second worth ripping his flesh raw and bloodied, down to the bone, as he pleaded and begged and had the nerve to offer a deal in exchange for his life. Most of what happened was a blur, but remembered there being so much blood, so much anger, so much affliction even after death that her mother had to intervene.

However, it wasn't enough for Roma. She believed her father was murdered and hadn't died in the explosion. Words weren't spoken out loud but conveyed as her red, puffy eyes scanned the faces of those who attended her father's funeral. She was looking for a killer. One she would never find even if the killer stood before her. Missed calls were sent straight to voicemail and her messages were left on delivered. Deena knew she needed support outside of her family, support she didn't want to give because while she wasn't her father and allegedly had no idea, Roma was still his daughter. Still of his blood, still holding his name, still grieving a man who deserved nothing. It wasn't a risk she'd take for anyone.

A make-up graduation party was held at the Abattoir. Everyone together under one roof. No drama, no fighting, maybe a smart remark here and there and plenty of teasing, but just for that one day — or a couple of days as Deena healed — her family was there for her. In anyway given, they were available and prepared to grant any wish.

Before Aunt Bekah disappeared again, she gifted Deena a Mikaelson heirloom so she may never forget her roots and who stand behind her. Uncle E gifted an expensive car she couldn't drive since transportation in France was affordable and convenient. Aunt Freya preserved a rare gown once worn on Louise Brooks and long pearls that could wrap three times around her neck and still had length. Her mother prepared a ruby pendant; shaped like a teardrop crafted in yellow gold and a round diamond sitting at top to represent her birth month, plus a load of money built in a cake. And her father gifted a stunning villa in her name located in Italy, a place Deena longed to visit. A private dockyard with five bedrooms and seven bathrooms, plus tickets so she could spend the summer there with friends before college.

But after what's happened, Deena would rather stay close to her family. At home. In her room. In bed.

Locked away in her room for weeks, Deena occupied her time with sketching and journaling, and activities that didn't require much energy. Staying up to watch the sunrise until the moon fell, barely lifting a muscle or finding passion in cooking again. American TV and the news became her outside source of the world except when Erik came over and would force her out of bed so she could get back into the habit of things she was passionate in, or would stay in bed with her so she wasn't withering away alone. Her mother would try to lure her with new spells she could finally learn and her father — invited shortly after the incident — with sweets, oranges, and gallant stories. But most times would just stand outside her door for hours either waiting for her to come out or waiting for something to happen and he's there when needed.

"...I feel there isn't enough I'm doing on my end as her father, and I feel unworthy to uphold that title when I have failed my duty. My sole responsibility." Her father expressed one night. They must've assumed Deena was asleep since the TV had timed out, whispering in a quiet home that carried their voices down the hallway of the apartment through her cracked door.

"I failed to protect and preserve what little innocence was left behind, now forcefully take from her." His frustration was evident, and allowed another waiting beat to situate himself. "She was to be the better one. Now she suffers the unfaltering faith of paranoia and nightmares of faceless shadows ceasing to deepen the wounds in her back until she is nothing more than a beating heart. Until she is alone. Until she grows to hate the reflection of her face and the makings of her being. And until she has become her own worst enemy."

"She's scared, Klaus. Home is where she feels the safest. Where it's only her voice speaking to her. Where we're at her reach and she's in an environment she can control." Her mother explained, and Deena hated that she was right because she was scared. Home felt the safest. It's one of the only place under her name that gave her control of who could and couldn't enter, dead at least. But the undead were easily handled by her parents who were at her reach should she cough or scream.

There was movement and it sounded like her parents shifted closer to each other, or her mother was stuffing all the grocery bags together to store away under the sink.

"I feel I've failed her too, but if we want her to feel safe again, we start by making her feel safe at home first. Then we can start outside." Her mother released a heavy sigh. "The world is dangerous and she's learning it the hard way."

"Had I dealt with Aurora — "

"Klaus, stop. It's not your fault. If anything, it's mine."

"But it is and will always be my fault to bear. Vanessa, you may see past my flaws and still resent me for the sins I've committed, but you know well enough that I am the start and ending of every common denominator." Her father said and there was more movement before her mother's voice was heard soft and guilt-filled.

"So we're both shitty parents. So much for doing all in our power not to be them, but I guess it's not something we can avoid given our history and who we brought into the world." Something they both agreed with after clinging glasses, a strong alcoholic scent lingered. "It's my job as her mother to have that conversation with her, the same I've had explaining how the world would perceive her as a Black girl growing up. Despite her White-ass father — " The two laughed at something her father mumbled. " — she'll always be viewed as such. I didn't prepare her for the differences with being whatever she is, which I'm sure feels just as worse if not the same."

A few more drinks were shared, and still Deena couldn't sleep.

"I've seen the condition of her stay. The amount of blood I had to drain — I," he inhaled to control his anger seething beneath. Jaw possibly clenched, fist possibly tightened, with murder on his mind. "I can't imagine what was going through her head when I — when I didn't come when she needed me. How many times had she spoken my name, stared at the door waiting for us to show up and save her? How many? And I wasn't there."

Deena tugged the covers over her head to block out their voices. She tried forcing herself asleep but nothing worked, and had no choice but to listen until it was quite again.

"I know what it's like to be treated differently and misunderstood, and I would never wish my daughter to wear my shoes even for an hour. Not even a second. They had enough wolfsbane to kill a bloody army and taken enough blood, not even the average human could last a day." He continued. "I have never been a man to know love nor created to receive it on my end, but now that I've had a taste of it, I would rid anyone who dares take it from me, or be the reason my daughter can't feel the sun on her skin or smile without feeling pain. I will burn their souls to the ground and walk in their ashes. Whatever it takes to ensure her safety and happiness above all."

𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑, Hayley came by the place to drag Deena outside. They hadn't seen each other since Jackson's funeral two weeks ago, which she attended by astral projection with Freya's help not wanting to physically be far from home. The same with Mr. Núñez's funeral, though she wasn't there in support of her friend, but to make sure her father was dead and if there were any lingering faces who escaped. She did show out for Cami's funeral since it wasn't but a few blocks away and everyone was there.

But because Deena trusted Hayley and knew she wouldn't betray her because if she died so did Hayley, she agreed to hang with her. Until they showed up at Marcel's gym, the place Cami was murdered and Deena started regretting her decision.

"Marcel's gym," Deena stated stiffly as they entered the building. It was still the same as she last visited, smelt of sweat and blood. "And how is this supposed to help visiting a murder site?"

"One, to get you out of the house since nothing else seems to be working. And two, I feel guilty. You're my sire and I've been lacking in the protection department with all this mess going on, and I thought you could use a friend. I could too."

"Again, how does this help?"

"There's a fight coming, Deena. That's what the prophecy says." Hayley noticed her pulse spiking and chose her words carefully while also laying it flat. "And you're not going to be much of help to the home team if you're just moping around eating chips all day, waiting for us to save you."

You're a walking threat, but an easy target.

Deena took offense at her jab and scoffed. "I'm a witch. I have magic."

"Great. And what about that?" Hayley motioned toward the necklaces both her aunt and her mother gifted dangling around her neck. "What happens if something occurs and you're unable to take off your necklace in time? Then what?"

Deena grew quiet because that's exactly what happened. Had she not been wearing her necklace during the time; she could've been long free. But she wasn't wearing it now and hadn't been since then. Hayley must've gotten the necklace confused having not seen each other in a while. She didn't look all that great either. A bit jumpy, fidgeting with the sleeves of her grey shirt, agitated and exhausted. Jackson's death was taking its toll.

"Look, I may not be able to help you in the magic department — hell, I can't even recite the many spells that's been used against me. That's all Freya and your mother. But, you need to learn how to defend yourself in every available option and I can help with the combative skills."

"You once told me there was pride in being a werewolf, in being myself. But since existing, I've given up myself to others more than anyone has in return. I can turn werewolves into hybrids. My blood can heal werewolf bites. I gave a whole damn pack the gift of controlling their transition and still, no one sees me as one of them." Hayley narrowed her gaze as Deena counted off her fingers. The frustration in her tone pained her sire to hear but listened anyways and gave her the space she needed to vent. "There's ancient magic in my blood, but the witches still want me dead. I'm very much alive as the next human being but being alive also sucks. I'm not wanted anywhere! I'd rather stay inside with my feelings, snacking on chips all day where it's safe. Where no one knows I exist and do nothing. Be nothing."

With her arms crossed, Hayley stepped away to inspect the condition of the rundown building that's been through hell. "This used to be a church, right?"

Anger forced itself into confusion at her words. Deena's brows knitted, failing to understand where her question came from and why it was brought up after everything she confessed. She also didn't know this place used to be a church.

"And then it got condemned," Hayley answered her own question. "If Marcel hadn't seen the possibilities, someone would've bulldozed it and turned it into some generic ass chain store. It's still a church, but it's also something more."

"I don't see where this is — "

Hayley's raised finger shuts Deena up so she could respectfully continue. "I'm a hybrid, but I'm also sired to you. And a widow. And an Alpha. You," She motioned while thinking of her words. "are a high school graduate. And a powerful witch. And a werewolf. And in some unspoken way a living vampire. And yes, you have some insane family legacy that comes with a bunch of riches and enemies and privileges, but if you don't embrace the fact that you won't always have a seat at the table no matter what you bring, you're gonna end up dead. Me along with you."

Hayley had a point even if Deena stubbornly didn't wish to accept the truth. Though valid reasons kept her from taking pride in herself without a constant reminder of the damages that came with it — she would never be given a chair, or space in any community that benefited from her.

It left a sour taste in her mouth, an empty hole in her chest, and an unspoken burn lighting its match. It extinguished with each breath inhaled but the feeling lingered.

She didn't want a community because she deserved it — though she knew she did — but because it's lonely being the odd one out. Her family would always have her back and because of their support and her friends, it's not a constant thought on her mind, but Deena wanted more outside of them. Like what everyone else had. And Hayley sold her a false dream.

There was no such thing as a community. It's a bullshit lie filled with greed and beggars who turn their backs against the hand that fed them when they were most desperate. And experiencing it firsthand, Deena wanted no part of it anymore. It's not as appealing as it was when first arriving in New Orleans.

With a sigh, Deena gave a careless shrug. "So now what?" She asked.

Hayley tugged her shirt over her head revealing a sports bra underneath and tossed it aside. With a smile on her face, she gestured toward the ring. "We're gonna get in that ring and you're going to try and punch me."

There weren't any better options to spend the day so Deena accepted the challenge. It was either this or suffocation by her parent's presence.

As soon as Deena entered the ring, she wasn't given any prior warning when Hayley attacked and brought her to the floor in a flash. She wheezed out a breath and confronted her about not being ready and refusing to play fair.

"Your enemies won't wait for you to take off your shoes and get yourself situated to lay down ground rules — they attack once the window's open and your weakness is found." Hayley crawled off Deena to her feet with a head gesture. "Get up and try again. No magic permitted."

Deena did. She tried again until they were both satisfied.

Hayley was a good fighter and there was much to learn from her. She reminded Deena where to find common weak spots when fighting her component, and positioned her body for the best impact. Then attacked with the strength of a werewolf, the strength of a vampire, and the strength of a hybrid. Though she restrained some of her strength until Deena could handle more.

After fighting for what felt like hours, they took a breather so Deena could get a drink of water. She'd been in bed for so long that her body forgotten what it felt like to be active again. Aside from falling on her ass millions of times in a row, she admittedly was glad she came outside.

Hayley stood next to Deena leaning against the padded edges. "How do you feel?" She asked while pushing back her wet hair wavier than before, though compared to her sire, in a better condition as she barely broke a sweat. Damn hybrid genes.

"Besides getting my ass kicked, really good. I kind of needed this. But I should've worn a bra or proper clothing."

They chuckled at the large T-shirt now rolled up at her stomach paired with baggy shorts, her hair unruly and free. She looked as if she'd rolled out of bed which was the case.

"Hey, I told you to put on something you can workout in. You didn't listen. At least I warned you."

"You did."

"But I figured you needed this." She nudged Deena's shoulder stealing a knowing smile. "If you're taught to hide what makes you different, you end up feeling a lot of shame about who you are. I'm sorry that everyone hates you for what you can't change. And despite what others in the pack feel about you, you are a Crescent wolf. You will always have a home in my pack."

"I'm sorry too," Deena said, gaining a look from Hayley who couldn't think of why she'd apologize when nothing's been done. "About Jackson. We never talked much but when we did, he was really nice and down to earth. He even liked the butter cookies I baked."

It seemed to be a touchy subject judging by Hayley's uncomfortable shift. However, she knew no harm was meant and genuinely wanted to empathize with her so she smiled weakly. "Yeah, I'm sorry too. I should've listened to him when I had the chance. Instead, I involved myself in matters I wasn't a part of simply because I can't stay away from your family."

"Or my Uncle."

Hayley snapped Deena a look with her eyes bulging wide with shock, which she merely shrugged off.

"It's not so much of a surprise, and you're not that good at hiding it."

"I'm also here for you, Deena. And the pack." Hayley reminded with a tad of offense. "If you die, I die, remember?"

"Yeah, but I'm not the only reason you stick around and that's fine. We're both adults here."

Hayley ran her fingers through her hair as if to massage the conversation out of her head. "I'm not having this conversation with a teenager while I still mourn Jackson who died not too long ago because of my affiliation with your family."

"Adult." Deena reminded, kissing her teeth.

"The teen in your age states otherwise." Said Hayley and Deena rolled her eyes. She wanted all the juicy details about her family, and it was a good distraction. "Besides, whatever fling we had is long overdue. I had to perform my duties to my pack and my husband, and your uncle is still strung up on another. It is what is it."

Deena perked with knitted brows. "Didn't know there was another?" She inquired for more details and Hayley knew it too.

"Ask your Uncle. If Elijah hasn't mentioned her then I'm sure it's for a complicated reason."

Hayley left it at that but it was clear she still had feelings toward her Uncle. But this was new to Deena. She didn't know her Uncle found love outside of this family or that he had time for it. Their conversations consisted of Deena, her future, and his plans toward her future with small bits of history sprinkled in. He never spoke of himself outside of the house. His ambitions. His romantic history. His future that didn't consist of his family. Not that he owed her anything, but he was quite the mystery.

Their attention snapped to Hayley's vibrating phone. Color drained from her face upon answering the call, but it was too late to react to said words. A blonde-headed woman with a black cloak tied around her neck burst through the entrance and flung Hayley against the wall of the ring. It broke off with force, wailing in pain once the ground caught her. Two more witches in black cloaks appeared.

"Get out of here right now!" Hayley commanded.

Deena was ready to use all that was taught before she tried to run, but her legs were like jello. Her breath came in short gasps and her vision was turning black at the corners. She could hardly breathe from the fear clawing from within her, fear she didn't know existed. They're coming for me. Hayley shouted again, desperate to get her sire far from here and safe. It could have been in her head, but she was convinced they were coming for her. The ones who escaped needed more blood. More money. More of her.

I can't go back there.

Her knees buckled and found comfort against the floor. Hayley's ear-splitting screams of torture triggered something, and Deena felt guilty there was nothing she could do to help her. To help herself. And regretted ever leaving her room. Through her foggy gaze, an enormous amount of blood poured around her chest, Hayley baiting them to fight her for her heart. A strong gust of wind picked up and surrounded the ring as she choked air down her dry throat.

They can't have me.

Just her thudding heart and the wooshing sound of wind knocking items overfilled her ears, but so did their voices. You filthy crossbreed. They said. You're a walking threat but an easy target. They laughed. Word is spreading around. Tears welled in her eyes, screaming for them to stop. To leave her alone. To take nothing more from her that she didn't have. And those scars that healed were now burning of their touch and the smell of wolfsbane suffocated her.

A familiar voice running in her direction registered in Deena's foggy brain. "You're alright, kid. You're safe. No one's coming for you." He promised in a calming voice soothing out the wind that could probably throw him against the wall.

And Deena felt safe seeing it was Marcel, but not safe enough. A wave of darkness shaded and her eyes grew heavy, the last thing heard was incoherent voices as she drifted off.

A U T H O R ' S N O T E

— I know we were hoping Deena would torture Mr. Nunẽz on-page (which he deserves) rather than just telling us what happened and she suddenly becomes a bad bitch killing machine—but I chose another route that would better serve her character and build up future plots that comes into play. Keep in mind there are 4 seasons in total all in one book. This is the 2nd. But trust, Deena will do many on-page tortures and killings....even might forcefully turn a werewolf into a hybrid against their will to ensure their loyalty, and a big kill-streak in such a short period of time—which I'm currently writing right now and can't wait to show you guys when we get there ahhhhhh!!!