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Elena’s fingers trembled as she wrapped them around the hilt of the dagger embedded in Elijah’s chest. Her pulse thrummed in her ears, her breath shallow as she steeled herself. One pull, and everything would change.
She hesitated—just for a moment—before yanking the blade free.
Elijah gasped. His body jerked violently, air flooding his ancient lungs as if he had been drowning. The wound sealed instantly, his immortal form rejecting the silver and ash that had kept him imprisoned.
Elena took a wary step back. Her heart pounded as she watched him come to life before her eyes. He staggered for only a moment before regaining his composure, smoothing out his rumpled suit as if he had simply woken from a long slumber rather than being betrayed and killed.
His sharp gaze flicked to her. “Elena.”
She swallowed hard. “We had a deal.”
Something flickered in his dark eyes. Amusement? Curiosity? Perhaps something else, something softer—something he wouldn’t dare name.
He studied her. She had risked much to bring him back, trusting that he would hold true to his word. Foolish, yet… admirable.
“You put a great deal of faith in a man you helped murder,” Elijah murmured, taking a slow step toward her.
Elena stood her ground. “I didn’t have a choice.”
He tilted his head, the corner of his mouth twitching. “There is always a choice.”
She exhaled sharply, unwilling to let him unnerve her. “If you want to kill me, then do it. But if you still care about your honor, then help me stop Klaus.”
Elijah’s expression darkened at the mention of his brother’s name. Klaus—the shadow that loomed over them all, the one he had spent lifetimes hunting. And yet, at this moment, his focus was entirely on her.
Elena Gilbert. Defiant, brave, reckless.
His gaze softened for just a fraction of a second before hardening once more.
“I gave you my word,” Elijah said finally, his voice quieter, more measured. “And I do not break my promises.”
Relief flickered across her features, but it did little to calm the tension between them. The air was thick with something else now—something unspoken.
Elijah turned slightly, glancing at the bloodied dagger still in her grasp. “I should be furious with you.”
Elena’s fingers curled around the weapon. “Are you?”
He was. He should be. And yet, as he looked at her—this mortal girl who had dared to betray him, who had dared to revive him, who stood before him unshaken—he felt something far more dangerous than anger.
Something he had not felt in centuries.
Elijah took another step closer. Elena’s breath caught.
He could hear the frantic beating of her heart, smell the faint traces of fear beneath her resolve. And yet, she did not run.
Foolish girl. Brave girl.
“Elena,” he murmured, her name rolling off his tongue like a promise and a warning all at once.
She stiffened, lips parting slightly. There was something in his gaze, something dangerous, something—
She tore her eyes away. “We should go. Before someone finds out you’re alive.”
Elijah let her go. For now.
But something had shifted.
He was no longer simply bound to her by honor or a shared enemy.
No, it was something far more perilous.
And for the first time in a thousand years, Elijah Mikaelson found himself standing on the edge of something he could not control.
Something he wasn’t sure he wanted to resist.