This fic is a gift for Motoko The Red Queen. One I promised to hera really long time ago, so you have her to thank for it. And, anyway, seeing as it is a romantic fic (or at least I hope it is), I decided it will also double as a St. Valentine's post. Yay!

Currently, this fic has only two chapters. I'm still deciding if I'll expand it, but I make no promises. Why? Because I confirmed something I've always known about myself: I suck at writing romances. Plain and simple. So y'all who can write romances and do it beautifully, you have my sincerest respect and admiration. It's fucking hard!

As always, no beta.

Disclaimer: Twilight and The Vampire Diaries belong to their respective owners.

Chapter 1

Him

Kol remembered the time when he was human and he would trace the words engraved on his arm. At the time, he still didn't understand what was written. He only understood their significance. And he also understood the consequences of having those strange letters inked on his skin – what they would, one day, bring to his life. Soulmate, twin flame, one true love... the title hadn't mattered to him then. It still didn't matter to him now. No, what did matter was that, written on his arm, was the name of the one person who he was destined to – who would accept him, flaws and all, and make him complete.

It was his best kept secret. Even though the appearance of a name was considered a blessing from the gods, to be celebrated for days on end, he had never felt the need to let anyone know. Not his father, the abusive asshole; not his mother, because, for some reason, he was never truly able to trust her; and certainly not his siblings, who went on and on about the importance of family and how they would stay together 'always and forever', but would turn on him in the blink of an eye and, instead of talking about it like the adults they were supposed to be, lock him in a box.

No, his family would not be told.

There had only been one person who had discovered about it; a witch, one of his many lovers through the centuries. Theirs had been an interesting relationship, full of lust and hate. No love. If there had been any, from his part, it had been for the rush of the magic being practiced so close to him; from hers, it had been the love for the knowledge he could supply. Other than that, she loved to hate him. He was unnatural in her eyes, an abomination. He had delighted in taunting her, dangling bits and pieces of spells he knew she would never be strong enough to cast. Not that she had known that. To her, Kol had just been offering her incomplete forms of powerful spells.

And despite all the hate she held toward him, she still hadn't been able to resist his charms and good looks.

Their dynamic changed the day she saw the letters inked on his skin. He had been careless and, as consequence, she caught the sight of black on his otherwise unmarred skin. "What's this?" She asked, taking a hold of his arm.

Kol tensed and held back the growl that wanted to come out. "None of your business," he snapped. He tried to pull his arm back, using just enough force for her to let go without causing any injury. But her hold was firm and she only tightened it in response. He considered breaking her arm. Before the thought had finished forming in his head, he felt a delicate finger tracing the letters. Kol went rigid. None of his muscles moved. He didn't even breathe. He had never felt so furious in his life.

"Isabella Marie Swan." He barely heard her through the blood rushing through his ears. How dare she? Kol turned to the witch with murder in his eyes. The only thing that stayed his hand was the look she was sending him, a mix of disbelief and awe. There wasn't even a speck of fear for the rage she had sparked. "How?" The disbelief won and she shook her head. "This shouldn't be possible. You're unnatural!"

"And yet I've had this since I was human," he stated in a clipped tone. He was not used to holding himself back. As such, he could feel the veins beneath his eyes protruding and his fangs elongating.

She had apparently drawn the right conclusions, because she stood there, gaping at him, completely ignoring his shifting visage. "But that would mean that you were predestined to become a vampire!" Came the horrified discovery.

"It would, wouldn't it?" He was entirely unsympathetic to her breakdown. As it was, it was taking all he had to not end her misery.

He had already finished dressing and was making his way to the door. If he stayed, he would surely end up murdering her. His escape was interrupted when she spoke again. "You will find her." He stopped, but didn't turn. "It will take a few centuries yet," at this, he looked over his shoulder, "but she'll be worth it. Every pain and every joy... everything your siblings put you through." He held back a scoff. He already knew that. Any and every path he took would inevitably lead him to her. To his Isabella. Still, her words did wonders in calming him. They were also reassuring and made him wonder what she had seen when she traced the letters. "I'll help you." At this, he fully turned to face her, surprised.

"Why?" He couldn't help but ask. The nature of their relationship was not the kind that would have her volunteering her aid. Besides, even though he had calmed down and wouldn't be spilling any blood for the moment, he was still angry, which only server to further his suspicion and paranoia.

But the witch was stubborn, he knew that, and had, apparently, decided to do it, if the way she tilted her chin was an indication. "Yours is a gift from the gods, one to be cherished. Who am I to go against them?"

"Even though I'm unnatural?" He threw his words back at her. She faltered then, at a loss of words. After a few moments of silence, where he pondered if he should just go, she opened her mouth.

"I think," she started, but quickly shut her mouth again, as if unsure of what she was about to say. Her caramel eyes locked with his and he raised an eyebrow. At his silent urge, she plowed ahead. "I think that we witches have let our pride rule us. Our ancestors, from whom we draw our powers and whose rules we follow, were humans just like us." Kol also knew that. He had been a warlock, after all. "We go around saying we serve nature and yet... yet, every time something doesn't go our way, we throw hissy fits. We are the first to point fingers, but, when you think about it, we're the ones at fault. Vampires, werewolves... it's our fault." She started slowly, hesitantly, but, as her speech progressed, she became more impassioned, her hands going every which way, emphasizing her words. It was as if those were words she constantly thought about, but had never had the courage to utter. (Though Kol had to raise another brow at the werewolves bit. He didn't know a witch was responsible for it, which, in hindsight, was kind of stupid of him. Witches, for all their talk, loved to make others miserable) "The gods created the very nature we serve, so it's only natural to think we serve the gods. If they decided you were worth it, who am I to say otherwise?

"No," she shook her head. "My family will help keep a look out for her through the years. If any of us find anything, we'll find a way to contact you," she stated. Kol was bewildered, confused, flummoxed. He hadn't expected this to happen when the witch had discovered Isabella's name. Huh? "And we'll keep an eye on her until you can be by her side."

He was suddenly filled with gratefulness towards this brash, foul-tempered, wonderful woman.

"Thank you." Until that day, more sincere words had never left his lips, and he doubted they would until he found his mate. Fortunately, she seemed to understand, for she sent a smile his way. All of a sudden, he was in front of her, her hands grasped between his. "If you or your family ever need anything, don't hesitate to ask. If it is in my power to help you, I will." She stared at him, wide-eyed, with wonder starting to fill those caramel orbs. Normally, he wouldn't make this kind of promises, but what she offered to do for him – and without asking for anything in return – was not something he could just brush off.

"I-I..."

He smiled at that. "Goodbye, Angelina, and thank you," he deposited a kiss on her forehead and left.

_._._

The centuries passed by (incredibly fast, in his opinion. But then again, his siblings were quite fond of locking him in that god forsaken coffin) and still his mate had not been found. He sometimes feared he would never really find her, not with the way the others interfered with his life as if they had any right to. And really, could that lot be any more hypocritical? It was okay to dagger him when he was out of control, but it wasn't okay for him to think a dagger that could neutralize Klaus? That fucker could be as much of a psychotic maniac as Kol himself could. But no, no one touched poor, little Niklaus, he mentally sneered.

Kol knew he was embittered; he was quite aware of that, in fact. But then, he rationalized with himself, who wouldn't be, with such a shitty family? Their mother had just tried to kill them, with Finn playing the sacrificial lamb, and he had never been included in the 'Always and forever' promise. No, that was just for the Golden Trio. And the less he thought about his father, the better. His family was a house of cards that – more often than not – he couldn't wait to see collapsing.

Now, with all the drama involving his mother over with, he could focus. He had no plans of remaining in Mystic Falls whatsoever, and he had a mate to search. With those thoughts in mind, he closed his eyes, turned his focus inward and tried to search for anything. He didn't really know if it was going to work, but he rationalized that something must have changed, for he had been dreaming of a girl since he had been undaggered. A brown-haired, brown-eyed little thing.

So he searched, ignoring the linking spell and going a little deeper inside himself. He was utterly surprised when it worked. There was a tenuous link pointing somewhere. Something he had never felt before. He opened his eyes, completely astonished, in time to see a piece of paper appear in a burst of fire. He caught and unfolded it.

Isabella Marie Swan

September 13, 1987

Forks, Washington

Kol sucked in a breath. This was information on his mate, delivered from a witch. More than that, it told him that the little girl he had been dreaming about was his Isabella. With his heart thundering inside his chest, he quickly picked the phone Klaus had given him and called the number he just noticed written on the verso.

"Hello."

"Hello, poppet. I just received your message," he said to the feminine voice that answered him. There was a sharp inhale on the other side, followed by a murmur of 'Oh my god'.

"Kol Mikaelson?" It was it him or there was a fuck ton of hope laced through that voice?

"That would be me. And who am I talking to?"

"My name's Angela Weber. I'm a descendant of Angelina," the now identified Angela informed him. "I'm also Bella's best friend."

Kol closed his eyes. This—this was so much more than he had expected. This was confirmation that the gods hadn't really forsaken him. Intellectually, he had known this to be true, but his faith – more importantly, his hope – had taken a severe beating down after centuries of unfruitful searches, looking for someone without ever being able to find her and was starting to fade. This was reality, his Isabella was real.

"Where—?" He started but was unable to finish his sentence. He was still too exhilarated to form coherent thoughts. Thankfully, his intention came across and Angela's response was forthcoming.

"Can you come to Seattle?"

Kol blinked, trying to bring some sort of coherence to his mind. Seattle? Isn't that on the other side of the country? No surprise, then, that he couldn't pinpoint Isabella's exact location, just the direction he was supposed to go. Still, he was thankful they were in the same country. It would have sucked if she was on the other side of the globe. Not that it would have deterred him. One should be thankful for small mercies, though.

Other thing that bugged him was that, from what he remembered, Angelina's line had settled in Chicago, so what the hell was her descendent doing in bloody Seattle? Not that he was complaining, the greater the distance between that particular line and his siblings, the better. His relationship with the Giglio line may have started with him teasing Angelina, but it had turned to fondness when the entirety of the family fell in step with Angelina once she had told them of his blessing, every witch and warlock doing their best to help him throughout the centuries.

And so, as a thank you, Kol had never hesitated to teach them what he knew of magic whenever they had asked; nor had he tried to ruin them with Dark Magic (like he had done to so many witches), though he had known they had known he possessed such knowledge. One did not try to off their hybrid brother without gaining some dubious learning. To his utter surprise, some had come to him asking to learn. "We have to cover all our bases," they had told him, which had made him even more enthusiastic in his teachings.

"Sure. I'll take the first flight out of here," he answered her, for once thankful that both Elijah and Klaus had taken some time to set an account for him and teach him how to use a debit card.

"Great! Once you have it, text me the flight info so I can get you."

"Will do. Thanks."

She laughed. "No problem. See you."

Kol said his goodbyes and hung up.

He spent a few more minutes seated against the trunk of a tree that surrounded a clearing, his unseeing eyes staring ahead as he thought about how to proceed. He wouldn't tell his siblings where he was going, that was a given. He didn't want any of them near Isabella. He thanked whatever god out there they were on opposite sides of the country, even if he would prefer to put an ocean between them. Hmm... he would have to discuss this with her in the future. Maybe he would take her to see the world.

Anyway, it was late now so, with any luck, the others would already be asleep, which would make it easier for him to pack some clothes and essentials and hightail out of there. If they weren't, then he would just have to wait until they went to bed before leaving. After that, he would just have to compel someone to take him to the closest airport. It wasn't one of his best thought plans, but it would do.

With that thought in mind, he made his way to his brother's mansion.

_._._

When Kol landed, it was already late afternoon and he was starving. In his hurry to get out of Mystic Falls, he hadn't fed, and spending more than seven hours inside a flying tin can filled with his food of choice didn't do anything to alleviate his bad humor. Luckily, it wasn't that difficult for him to spot Angela; she had to be amongst the tallest people he knew. She was also quite easy on the eyes with her light brown hair and caramel eyes. Those eyes... For one moment, it was almost like looking at Angelina again. He made his way to her and saw her lowering the sign that had his name written on it.

"Hello, poppet," he said, stopping in front of her and extending his hand.

"Hello, Mr. Mikaelson. I must say, you look much better than the draws I've seen," she told him, accepting his hand. Kol brought hers to his lip and watched as a blush blossomed on her cheeks.

"Kol." He let her hand go. "I didn't know there were any draws of me."

She shrugged. "It was so we knew what you look like."

He nodded and they made their way outside. They reached her car and he put his bags in the trunk before turning to her. "Before we get going, I have to feed."

She frowned at him, and Kol imagined she was just like any other witch who disapproved of his kind. "Can it wait until we reach the town?" She inquired, surprising him. He raised an eyebrow in askance, and she signaled the area around them. "Cameras, Kol. There are people observing what's happening in the airport. It wouldn't be wise to draw attention to your existence, right?"

Kol blinked, letting his brain process the information. So there were unseen observers around and they would grow suspicious if he were to approach someone and lure them to a desert area; a security measure. He ran a hand through his hair. From the way she had said it, those cameras were common knowledge, something he should be aware of.

Once again he felt anger filling him over how much Klaus had fucked his life. It was followed by bitterness because, while he couldn't count on Finn (drowning in depression as he had been for that first hundred years he had been awake), he should have been able to count, if not on Elijah, who was oldest after Finn and the more responsible of them all, then on Rebekah, who was closest to his age. Fuck, if Klaus had been able to get his head out of his ass, then he would have seen that he was not the only one who had lost something to their parents; Mikael's pride and Esther's compliance may have robbed Klaus of his wolf, but they had also robbed Kol of his magic. But no one seemed to remember that. Nope, Elijah and Rebekah were all about catering their Úlfheðinn* brother's every whim, and Finn was out of commission.

He lowered his hand and nodded, watching her getting into the car before following her with a sigh.

They stayed silent for a few moments before Angela broke it. "Am I to assume that you spent the last few years daggered?" The tone of her voice told him she already knew it to be true. He knew, without looking, she was staring straight ahead at the road, afraid to upset him.

He sighed again and tore his eyes away from the scenery outside the window to look at her. Just as he thought, her eyes were peeled to the road. "The last century, in fact," he answered her. "But you already knew it." Kol was rewarded by her sending a glance his way before returning her eyes to the path. She was frowning heavily.

"My mother tried to contact you once she first came in contact with Bella, some twenty years ago," she informed him. "Her name was just too much of a coincidence for mom not to try and, at least, bring it to your attention. She suspected something was afoot when she couldn't send you a message. Years later, we were told why," she sent him a sardonic smile.

Kol froze for a few seconds. With an ease born from practice, he pushed aside his ire toward the Golden Trio for the years lost and focused on the curiosity he felt, letting it fill him until he relaxed against his seat. "Is it so?" He asked, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Mhm," she nodded her head. "So... Bella." She paused and tilted her head. Kol didn't even try to pretend that the subject didn't interest him. "She was born on September 13, 1987 to Charles Swan and Renée Dwyer née Higginbotham. When she was three months old, her parents divorced and Renée took her to California. When she was six, they moved to Phoenix and Bella stayed there until she turned seventeen, when she went back to Forks."

Kol snorted at the name of the city. He had read the name on the paper the witch had sent him, but he hadn't paid attention to it. He found it impossible to ignore now. Really, who had the bright idea to name a city after cutlery? What was next, Spoons, Knives?

Angela sighed, but there was a hint of humor in her eyes. "I know, I know. Ridiculous name. Anyway," despite the tone of her voice, there was a smile pulling at her lips, "Bella went to Forks to live with her dad when she was seventeen. We met the following day, her first day at Forks High." The smile turned into a grin that formed wrinkles around her eyes. It was clear that they were close friends. Best friends, he reminded himself, thinking on the previous day's phone call.

She kept talking about how they became tentative friends at first, both being too shy and prone to silence. Their friendship solidified when Bella confronted Angela about being a witch. It also helped that they had some shared interests, like books, witchcraft and, because her little brothers were such terrible influence on them, video games and music.

"Aren't you supposed to be the bad influence in their lives?" She burst into peals of laughter and shook her head. Well, he had to admit that she didn't look like the type who would lead little brothers astray. He let her recover her composure before she could cause an accident that would prove fatal to herself. Once she calmed down, he decided to ask her the question that had been nagging at him since she reminded him of the best friend status. "Why are you telling me this?" Being close to Isabella would mean that the little witch's loyalty would be hers, not his, no matter how many previous generations had helped him.

She shrugged. "Why not?" When all he did was raise an eyebrow, she sighed, all mirth draining from her. "Two reasons, really," she informed him. "One: Bella asked me too." He raised an eyebrow at that. "Said it would only be fair, seeing as she had been having visions of you since she was twelve years old."

Kol frowned. How could she had been having visions of him when he had been daggered? Unless... "She's been having dreams of me."

Kol was ecstatic. She had dreamt about him when she hadn't even known who he was. Dreams, while not common, were not exactly rare, and were a clear indication of the dreamer possessing a significant other, a destined other. Isabella would have dreamt not only of his life, but about the two of them, together. Like he had been doing lately.

But alongside his elation, there was also a smidgen of fear. He was afraid he would lose his mate before he even met her, that she would be appaled by all the carnage he left behind. Kol pushed it aside; Isabella was the only one who would always accept him, no matter what.

Angela chanced a glance at him, clearly surprised at his assumption, but nodded either way. "We're not certain about the details, but, given the circumstances, the only theory that we were able to come up with and that made sense was that she was having them so she could understand."

"Understand?" He couldn't hide his surprise. Didn't Angela understand the significance of those dreams? Had the lore been lost?

"You have to comprehend, Kol, that your reputation is not the best." No, it was, actually, amongst the worst. "Two races of vampires, thousands of you out there, and the only ones that can come close to the piles of corpses you left behind are your half-brother and your father. Not even the White King came close to the amount of blood you all spilled, and he is three times your age."

The White King, Caius di Volturi, responsible for the almost eradication of the werewolves inside of the European continent, the most cruel of the three rulers. Of course he didn't come even close, Kol mentally sneered. How could he when he expends all his time inside his castle playing court.

"You don't have to worry," she told him after a while. He turned his head to look at her (he had been previously watching the people go by in the busy city). "I wouldn't have come get you if she didn't want to meet you."

"Right," he drawled. "Best friends trump family promise."

She, at least, had the decency to blush.

Kol smirked. Well, if Isabella was really having dreams of him, he wasn't going to complain. She would at least have a hint as to why he did half the shit he did. "So what is reason number two?"

Angela sighed, which Kol took as a hint that something was not right. She ran a hand through her hair while the other tapped the wheel as she waited for the light to turn green. "Cold ones."

He furrowed his brows. Cold ones? What the fuck was a cold one? She must have read his confusion, for she answered his unasked question.

"'Cold one' is how the tribes refer to the other race."

The Indian tribes, natives of the land and blessed by the spirits. Some of them possessed the title of protectors, for the spirits gave some members the ability to protect their people from anything that presented themselves as threat. These warriors would, more often than not, live for as long as it took to defeat their enemies. He had once heard rumors of a bear shifter who had been close to three hundred years old when Kol was last awake.

He couldn't have held the snarl that formed in his throat even if he wanted to. Just the thought of one of those things close to his mate was enough to send him into a frenzy. "Explain."

"It ties with the story I was telling you." Her voice trembled slightly. Her knuckles had gone white due to her tight grip on the wheel and she stared ahead, but Kol was past the point of caring. "As I was saying, Bella and I met in Forks High School. It was there that she attracted the attention of a coven."

His mind went in overdrive. It was obvious that both Angela and Isabella saw the coven as a threat. That wouldn't do. But before any plan of action could be formed, he would need more information. "How many?"

"Seven. Three of them are gifted: a seer, an empath and a mind reader." She glanced at him. "Their gifts don't work fully on her. The visions of her are fuzzy at best, the empath can feel her emotions but can only influence them when they're touching, and her mind is completely silent."

"When they're touching?!" He could feel the veins under his eyes protruding and his fangs elongating. "And how do you know it?"

She took a deep breath before she parked the car, unfastened her seat belt and exited the vehicle. Kol looked around him. They were in front of a little cafe. Had they arrived at their destination? He exited the car and caught up with her.

"You said you had to feed, right? Go. I'll be waiting here," she told him, and he stared at her. She was stalling. He spent the next few moments observing her; she was wriggling her hands and she would look everywhere but him. He wouldn't like what she had to tell him, and she was making sure he wouldn't make her his next meal.

"I'll be right back, poppet," he said and saw her nod stiffly. Kol watched as she made her way to the closest table on the sidewalk and took a seat. Only then he turned around and went on his way

Time to hunt.

_._._

It wasn't long before he was sitting himself in front of Angela, making her look up from the phone she was typing into. "Hey," she greeted him before finishing whatever it was she was writing and putting the phone down.

"Alright, darling, time for explanations," he told her. Luckily for her, her plan had worked and he was much calmer now. He was fed and had also managed to release some of the pent up anger.

"Okay," she nodded and took a deep breath. "So the coven took an interest in Bella. You see, the 'children' attended high school so they could keep appearances. The 'father' was – still is, I'm sure – a doctor and the 'mother'..." she paused and frowned. "I think she was an architect."

Kol nodded his head. On any other day he would make a snarky remark about a vampire doctor, but even he had heard tales of this particular vampire, the one who refused to feed on human blood. "Carlisle Cullen." She seemed surprise at his tidbit of information. He scoffed. "Give me some credit, darling. It's not always one hears rumors about vampires healing humans instead of eating them." Sure, his kind's blood could heal, but no one had ever made it a profession.

"When you put it this way..." She blinked her eyes and tilted her head. She shook her head and resumed talking. "The mind reader, Edward, was intrigued by Bella's silent mind and her blood."

"Her blood?"

"Yeah. It, apparently, calls to him like to him like no other."

Kol closed his eyes as he took this in. "His singer." He reopened his dark eyes and saw her looking at him curiously. "She's his singer. It means that she's the most mouthwatering human he'll ever meet. Her blood, in a way of speaking, sings to him." He leaned back against the chair and stared at the dark sky. He would end the boy if he ever came close to Isabella again. In fact, he might do it either way just to make sure the other would never be a threat.

Decision made, he returned his eyes to the witch and saw her regarding him nervously, her hands busy shredding a napkin to pieces. "There's more. And I'm not going to like it."

"There's no easy way to say it..."

Her hesitation was starting to annoy him. "Well, out with it."

"Edward has convinced himself that Bella is his mate, so—"

She was interrupted by the enraged growl that came out of his mouth, making her go white. Kol tried to get a hold of himself before he caused a scene (in his mind causing a scene equaled attention, which equaled his siblings discovering where he was, which equaled they coming after him, either to lecture him or to put him back in his coffin. Either way, he wanted them as far away from Washington as possible). It wouldn't do for him to accidentally murder the witch when she hadn't done anything against him (especially as her family was under his protection). No, his anger already had a target. And, if he hadn't justifiable enough reasons to kill the boy before, this one was more than enough. He had not spent a millennium waiting for his mate to be born just so a little upstart could come and claim her.

Before he could open his mouth and demand more information, someone shouted Angela's name. The witch looked at some point over Kol's head and he could almost see her sagging in relief before grinning and standing up to hug the newcomer.

"Sorry for being late," she said, hugging the witch back. Something about that voice tugged at him on a most primal level. It completely ensnared him, and he could do nothing but observe this new arrival.

The first thing that caught his attention – aside from the long mahogany hair cascading down her back and her long, long legs – was her scent; she smelled of vanilla and roses and something that made him think of home. The second was that she seemed really close to the witch. The third was her voice, which he realized was the same as the murmur he heard the day before when he had called Angela. The last was Angela's reaction to seeing her; Kol was known for his psychopathic tendencies and he was angry, she shouldn't have relaxed at the appearance of someone unless...

Unless...

He felt his anger draining, being replaced by disbelief, as his mind made the connection.

The girls untangled themselves from one another, and he tore his eyes away from the perusal they were doing of those legs and looked up. His eyes made contact with brown ones and the breath got caught in his throat.

It wasn't love at first sight. But only because he was too jaded and bitter. He was sure that if this had happened when he was still human – or even during his first centuries as a vampire – he would have just fallen head over heels in love. As it was, he hadn't been allowed to dream of her to the point where his heart would belong solely to her – yet. Be as it may, Kol had become captivated by Isabella and felt as if his whole world had just become tethered to her.

He was peripherally aware that Angela had chose this moment to leave.

And then there were two.

He stood up without being really aware of doing so and saw her extend her hand. Just before it could make contact with the skin of cheek, she hesitated and started to draw it off. She seemed unsure of the veracity of this moment. That wouldn't do; he needed the touch of that hand as much as she wanted to touch him. So he stepped forward, caught her hand in one of his own and pressed it to his cheek.

He closed his eyes and allowed himself to feel as their connection snapped in place. For the first time in a thousand years, he felt whole. He also felt like purring, just like a contented cat.

"You're real."

The barely there whisper made him open his eyes, only to be greeted by the view of chocolate orbs filled with wonder. The "Isabella" that left his lips as he nuzzled her hand was a dark purr that, he was glad to see, caused her to shiver.

The next minutes passed in a blur; his only focus being the hand holding his, though Kol was peripherally aware she was dragging him somewhere. It didn't matter to him. She could lead him to hell and he would gladly follow. He only came back to himself once she let go of his hand and made her way to a close by bench. It seemed that she had led him to a park… fortunately for his soul (not that he gave a damn). Kol looked around. He could see a few people milling around, but all in all, they were in a quite secluded area.

He returned his eyes to her. "You know… if you wanted me to take you on a date, all you had to do was ask?" He felt a smirk forming on his lips.

She paused mid-step and turned to him. "Is that so?" She asked with a raised eyebrow. He nodded, amused. "Well, you were being too slow, so I decided to take matters into my own hands." The smirk that appeared on her lips was dangerous, Kol decided. He may not have fallen in love (though he knew it was only a matter of time), but he had definitely fallen in lust.

"A woman who knows what she wants," he said, approaching her with measured steps – a predator stalking his prey. He circled her, coming to a stop behind her. He leaned forward until his mouth was level with her ear, all the while inhaling the sweet aroma she exuded. "I like it."

The words had barely left Kol's mouth before he suddenly felt soft lips pressed to his, and his arms were full of her and he was bringing her closer, until there was no space between them. They fit together like two pieces of a puzzle, Isabella's body molding perfectly against his. One of her hands entangled itself in his hair and pulled and oh god! He moaned and felt her tongue slipping inside his mouth, exploring, mapping every inch, before entangling with his own. It was a battle he easily won and so he returned the favor and plundered hers in return. He entangled his hand in the hair at the nape of her neck and tilted her head, opening his mouth wider to deepen the kiss. Her moan was like music to his ears.

He removed his lips form hers, allowing her to catch her breath, only to attach them to her neck. He kissed an nipped a path up and down her throat and hummed in approval when she tilted her head, allowing him more access.

Kol was drowning in her. Isabella was all he could touch, smell, taste and feel, and it was heaven and hell and home.

"Kol," she moaned and tugged his hair again, eliciting a growl from him. Honestly, it was all he could do to not take her then and there. Fortunately for her, he had more self-control than that.

Reluctantly, he tore himself away from her and took a deep breath to try and calm down, only to be assaulted by the heady smell of her arousal. He groaned. This woman was going to be the death of him.

"Something wrong?"

He looked at her – flushed face, swollen lips, disheveled hair, heavy-lidded eyes – searched himself for every ounce of self-control he possessed and turned around, heading to the forgotten bench, then sat down. "Nothing wrong, Svanunge. But I don't think you would appreciate me having my way with you where anyone can see it."

"Sounds tempting. Pity you haven't even asked me on a date yet." Kol looked at her. She had crossed her arms and was pouting now.

"I thought you had taken matters into your own hands," he said, brow raised. He observed as Isabella sashayed her way to him, stopping a few inches away. She leaned toward him, and he couldn't stop his eyes from straying, as the new angle gave him an amazing view of her bosom.

"I suppose I did." She captured his bottom lip between her teeth, but, before he could do anything, she let go and sat beside him.

Minx, even as he thought it, his arm was already wrapped around her, bringing her closer.

They stayed silent for a while, just appreciating being together. He could feel his as whole being resonated with her.

But Kol was never one to stay quiet, so he started talking. He told her about his life; the things he did and experienced. He knew she already knew how it went, but he still wanted to explain everything – the costumes and why he did certain things. They being from different times and cultures, he was sure lots of things could be misunderstood. And Kol wanted to make sure Isabella understood, even if she didn't approve. So he talked.

He told her about his family, the village they lived in, the werewolves that were their neighbors, some traditions, and magic. The latter being his favorite subject and the one he was most enthusiastic about. Seeing as Isabella was an avid listener and asked questions left, right and center, Kol became even more animated. Then he told her about Henrik's death and being killed by his father, only to wake up as a vampire and discover he lost his magic.

Kol paused and closed his eyes at this point. He had been devastated. He had been a servant of nature who had been blessed by the gods. Then he had woken up and realized that a part of himself had been missing and he would never have it back. As soon as he had realized what his parents had done, he had also been terrified. How great had his relief been when, the moment he had found himself alone, he had rolled his sleeve and seen the name still inked on his arm. He had basically sagged with it.

He was brought back to the present by the feel of a hand caressing his face. He opened his eyes and stared into worried axinite ones.

"Maybe we should continue this later," she suggested. Kol found himself at a loss of words. How long had it been since someone genuinely worried about him? No fear, no apprehension, no nothing that would taint the emotion, just worry? "Come on, it's getting late. I need to get back home and I'm using you as my bodyguard." She stood up and proceeded to drag him along with her. Again.

She was trying to distract him, he realized. To make sure he didn't dwell in dark thoughts. He found it quite endearing, as no one had really bothered before. He was right, it was only a matter of time until he fell for her.

"Using me, are you? What if I don't allow you to?" He stopped and used their linked hands to pull her to him. She crashed into him, and he wrapped his free arm around her to make sure she wouldn't fall. It hadn't even been a day since he met her and already he couldn't stand the thought of her anywhere but by his side. It would have been ridiculous if he hadn't been waiting for this moment for a thousand years.

"Then I'll have to go back home by my lonesome," she said a little breathless from the impact. "And it's just so dangerous for a woman to be walking alone at this hour. What if anything happened?"

He hummed at that, amused by their banter. "I suppose I could escort you then, min Svanunge. I am a gentleman, after all."

*According to Wikipedia, Úlfhéðnar (singular Úlfheðinn (wolf coated [man])), was a term associated with berserkers. They are mentioned in the Vatnsdæla saga, Haraldskvæði and the Völsunga saga, and were said to wear the pelt of a wolf when they entered battle. Úlfhéðnar are sometimes described as Odin's special warriors: "[Odin's] men went without their mailcoats and were mad as hounds or wolves, bit their shields...they slew men, but neither fire nor iron had effect upon them. This is called 'going berserk.'"

Berserkers (or berserks) were Norse warriors who are primarily reported in the Old Norse literature to have fought in a nearly uncontrollable, trance-like fury.

I thought it fitting for Kol to call Klaus this way for the following reasons: (1) they are of Viking descent (except Klaus, but he was raised in their ways, so…); (2) Klaus' wolf side naturally makes him an angry person; (3) when you add upon that his vampiric side, which enhances his emotions and makes him immortal, you have an indestructible ball of fury.

Part 2 will be up on the 14th.