Chapter 5
Hope still hadn't let go of Rory. One arm cinched tight around the girl's waist, as if even an inch of space might shatter the bond they'd just sealed. Rory trembled against her, but she wasn't pulling away anymore. The tether between them hummed so loud it felt like a second heartbeat under Hope's skin.
But behind the heat and the relief, worry gnawed at her. Alaric. The school. His rules. His distrust. He'd never approve of this—of Rory, of the bond. He'd see it as dangerous.
Hope's jaw hardened. If he wouldn't understand, then she'd go over his head.
She pulled her phone out, thumb hovering over a number.
Rory blinked at her, frowning. "Who are you calling?"
Hope's grip on her hip tightened, eyes flicking sharp. "Shh."
Rory blinked, stunned into silence for a second, then snapped her head toward her with a disbelieving look. "Did you just shush me?"
Before Hope could answer, the line clicked, and Hayley Marshall's voice came through warm and steady. "Hope?"
Rory's jaw dropped, whispering half under her breath but definitely loud enough to carry into the speaker. "Oh my god, you did just shush me."
There was a pause at the other end. Hayley's tone sharpened. "Hope, who was that?"
Another voice broke through, harsher, laced with centuries of authority. Niklaus Mikaelson. "Hope Andrea Mikaelson, who else is on this call?"
Hope's jaw clenched. "Nobody—"
Rory leaned closer to the phone, eyebrows high. "Nobody? Really? Because last I checked, I'm somebody, somebody you fu—"
Hope clapped her hand lightly over Rory's mouth, muttering into the receiver. "Ignore her. She's… she's the reason I called."
Hayley's voice softened, careful now. "The reason?"
Rory made a muffled noise under her palm, eyes narrowing. Hope just slid her fingers lower, slipping into the waistband of Rory's sweats, brushing knuckles against slick heat to shut her up. Rory's gasp hitched hard against her hand, her body betraying her.
"Hope?" another voice cut in, smooth and dangerous. Klaus.
Hope's chest tightened, but she forced herself to stay steady. "Hi, Dad."
"What nonsense is this?" Klaus drawled. "You sound rattled."
Before she could answer, another buzz lit her phone—Alaric calling. Hope swore under her breath and merged the calls.
"Hope," Alaric barked, voice edged. "What the hell is taking so long? We were supposed to bring the witch back hours ago."
Hope's spine stiffened. "Things changed."
Klaus's suspicion sharpened. "Who else is on this line?"
"Alaric Saltzman," Hayley murmured, recognition in her tone.
Klaus sneered audibly. "Ah, the headmaster. Then perhaps you'll tell me why my daughter sounds like she's hiding something—and who keeps gasping in the background."
Hope swallowed hard, her hand still buried against Rory to keep her quiet. "Her name is Rory."
Alaric's sigh came rough, impatient. "Hope. You can't just pick up strays. You don't know what she is. This is exactly the kind of risk I've been warning you about."
That broke Rory's restraint. She yanked Hope's hand from her mouth, fury snapping out like lightning. "Stray? Fuck you, you fucking asshole. This is Beacon Hills, not your territory. It's mine. Show some fucking respect."
The line went dead silent.
Hayley's voice came first, low and approving. "She's got bite."
Klaus gave a dark chuckle. "About time someone told him off."
But Alaric was already pushing back, tight and hard. "You don't understand, Hope—this isn't some puppy crush. She's bad news. I can feel it."
Rory's eyes burned, her body shaking. The words ripped free before she could stop them. "Complicated? You think this is complicated? I'm the True Alpha you've all been whispering about. The one you thought was just a rumor. I'm not some stray, whoever the fuck you are. I'm the Alpha. This is my territory, and now I'm hers forever. I am pretty sure if I tried to leave, she would hunt me down."
Hope nods and says, "That's true, she is mine, and I will track her down if she tries to leave me.
The silence that followed was sharp enough to bleed on.
Hayley inhaled, reverence threading her voice. "True Alpha…"
Klaus laughed, low and delighted. "A 0True Alpha. My daughter doesn't do things by halves."
Alaric swore under his breath, rattled. "This is exactly what I was afraid of…"
Hope squeezed Rory's hand, her voice calm, cutting through. "Then maybe you should stop being afraid, Ric, because nothing you do is going to change it. She's mine. And I'm hers."
Alaric's tone sharpened. "I'll need a name."
Hope looked to Rory, waiting. Rory lifted her chin. "Rory. Rory McCall."
Hayley's voice steadied. "Then Rory McCall it is."
Klaus hummed, satisfied. "For now."
Rory's jaw tightened, and her Alpha voice came out steely, with a tone of this is how it is going to be. "But hear this. If I go to that school, my pack goes with me. No compromises. No leaving them behind. They're mine. We're a unit. You want me, you take us all."
The silence stretched, heavy.
Hayley's pride was unmistakable. "That's what a real Alpha sounds like."
Klaus's laugh was pure menace. "She'll turn your neat little school upside down, Headmaster. And I'll enjoy every second of it."
Rory's heart hammered, fire still licking through her veins. But Hope's arm stayed locked around her, steady and sure.
She was the Alpha.
She was Rory McCall.
And she was Hope's.
The phone was still on speaker. No one wanted to hang up first. The air in the room felt charged, too full of voices and power.
Alaric cleared his throat. "Fine. We'll do this my way. I want to meet her—today—before either of you heads back to the school."
Hope's chin lifted. "You'll meet her. Later this afternoon. But I'm not leaving without her."
"Hope—"
"No." The word landed like a door slam. "I said I'm not leaving without Rory."
A pause, then Alaric's exhale, long and resigned. "Three o'clock. The preserve road entrance. Don't make me regret this." The line clicked dead.
Silence followed until Hayley said softly, "You want to tell us what's really going on?"
Hope's shoulders dropped a little, the fight draining out of her. "You already heard most of it."
Klaus's voice rolled through the speaker, rough silk and suspicion. "What I heard was my daughter claiming someone as hers after knowing her for scarcely a day. Explain, love. Why this girl?"
Rory straightened, crossing her arms. "We just met yesterday."
"That," Klaus growled, "is precisely what concerns me."
Hayley's tone sharpened. "Hope, he's right to ask. What's happening between you two?"
Rory let out a dry laugh. "Apparently, something I didn't vote for. I've been trying to get her to leave me alone since the moment we met. She won't. Keeps saying I belong to her."
Hope turned toward her, eyes flashing. "Because you do."
"Excuse me?" Rory's heart kicked against her ribs, more panic than anger. She huffed out a short laugh. "You do realize you're officially the worst one-night stand in history, right? Most people leave when it's over."
Hope's eyes narrowed, the corner of her mouth curving upward. "And you should know by now I'm not most people."
"You tried to push me away," Hope went on, voice tightening, "and all it did was prove what this is. What I didn't tell Ric—what I was trying to figure out before everyone started shouting—is that we're bound. Soul-bound."
The word hung there, heavy and final.
Hayley inhaled sharply on the other end. "Hope…"
Klaus went quiet long enough for Rory to wonder if the line had dropped, then spoke, voice dangerously calm. "A soulbond? Are you certain?"
Hope nodded even though he couldn't see her. "Certain."
Hayley's voice turned low, reverent. "That bond doesn't form by accident."
Klaus made a thoughtful sound, half growl, half sigh. "Then, girl, understand this. If you hurt her, I will take it apart piece by piece until the bond breaks."
Rory met Hope's eyes, steady but uncertain. "I don't even understand what happened," she said quietly. "I don't understand what's happening now—except that somehow I stopped fighting it. I stopped trying to push her away. And now I can feel her—her emotions—like they're mine. I feel connected to her. And I feel like…" she hesitated, voice low, "…I feel like I belong to her."
Hope's mouth twitched, a ghost of a smile. "Yeah," she said softly. "Because you stopped trying to make me leave."
The phone went quiet again, only breathing and the faint hum of their connection.
Hayley finally said, "We'll talk tonight. Together. No more hiding things."
Hope gave a slight nod. "Yes, ma'am."
The call ended. The silence that followed was heavier than before but not uncomfortable; it was full of everything unsaid. Hope looked at Rory, some mix of fear, defiance, and something far more dangerous glimmering in her eyes.
The call ended, leaving only the quiet hum of the morning around them.
They were standing outside the McCall house now, sunlight spilling through the trees, the air thick with pine and tension.
For a heartbeat, neither of them spoke. The world felt too bright, too open for everything pressing between them—fear, power, and that slow-burning pulse that wouldn't let go.
Hope's gaze stayed fixed on Rory. Her eyes gleamed in the light, that mix of curiosity and something more profound, darker. Rory felt it like static crawling over her skin. She wanted to move—to run—but her legs wouldn't listen.
"Okay," she said finally, forcing her voice steady, "what the hell was that? Why are you talking to that headmaster like I already agreed to go to his school? And when was it decided I'd be shipped across the country?"
Hope blinked, then her expression hardened. "It was decided," she said quietly but with steel underneath. "You're not leaving me, Rory."
Rory's eyes widened. "Excuse me?"
Hope didn't explain. She reached out, caught Rory's wrist, and pulled her close. The movement was sure, almost magnetic. Their breath mingled for half a heartbeat before Hope's mouth found hers—quick, fierce, and final.
When Hope drew back, her breath still trembled against Rory's lips. "We're soul-bonded," she murmured. "You're not leaving me—and I'm not leaving you."
Rory stared at her, heart hammering so hard it hurt. "You can't just say stuff like that," she whispered.
Hope's smile was slight but certain. "I'm not saying it, Rory. I'm feeling it. And so are you."
Rory swallowed, hating that she couldn't argue. The bond between them hummed, alive, undeniable. She could feel Hope's emotions twined with her own—warm, protective, possessive.
"Great," Rory muttered, stepping back but not really pulling away. "So now what? You drag me off to your monster academy and pretend this is normal?"
Hope laughed softly, the sound almost fond. "Something like that. But first, we meet Alaric. Then we figure out the rest—together."
Rory shook her head, exasperated but already losing the fight. "You really are impossible."
Hope's grin tilted, her confidence slipping back into place. "Maybe. But you're stuck with me now."
Rory sighed, looking toward the distant road where they'd meet Alaric later. "Yeah," she said quietly. "Looks like I am."
They slipped back inside, the hush of the morning replaced by the soft tick of the kitchen clock and the faint drip of the coffee maker. Rory headed straight for the stairs, brushing damp curls from her face.
"I'm going to shower," she muttered. "Try not to let my mom interrogate you too hard."
Hope gave a faint smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "No promises."
Rory disappeared upstairs, the thud of her footsteps fading. The quiet that followed felt heavier than before.
Melissa McCall leaned in the doorway, arms folded, studying the girl left standing in her kitchen. "So," she said finally, "you're Hope."
Hope straightened instinctively. "Yes, ma'am."
"You've made quite the impression." Melissa's tone wasn't sharp, but it carried weight—the kind that came from years of patching up hunters and wolves alike. "My daughter doesn't let people in easily."
Hope's throat tightened. "I'm starting to understand that."
Melissa nodded slowly, eyes never leaving her face. "Rory's been through a lot. I'm guessing she hasn't told you much yet."
"Only that her ex cheated on her."
A sigh left Melissa. She reached for the coffee pot, poured two mugs, and pushed one across the counter. "You should know the rest. Allison and Rory were close. Real close. Allison became Rory's world, and they were inseparable. Allison was possessive and protective of Rory, and then it went downhill from there. Allison started seeing my son, Scott."
Hope froze, the mug halfway to her lips. "Her brother?"
"Adoptive," Melissa corrected, rubbing a hand over her temple. "Doesn't make it better. Scott and Allison thought they were in love. Rory walked in on them. Broke her heart clean in two."
The words hit like a punch. Hope's fingers tightened around the mug. A flicker of something hot and territorial flared through her chest before she could smother it. "And she still has to see them?"
"Sometimes," Melissa said. "Beacon Hills isn't big enough for that kind of distance." She took a sip, then set her cup down. "She's been angry. Sad. Half of both. You seem to be the first person she's actually looked alive around in months."
Hope met her gaze, the jealousy giving way to something softer. "I don't want to hurt her," she said quietly.
Melissa's expression eased, but only a little. "Then don't. She doesn't need anyone else walking out on her or deciding she's too complicated to deal with. If you're going to stay, you stay."
"I will." Hope's voice came out steadier than she expected.
Melissa studied her for a long moment, then nodded toward the ceiling. "She won't say it, but she blames herself for what happened with Allison. Thinks whatever she is—wolf, whatever else—is the reason people leave. You might be the one person who can make her stop believing that."
Hope blinked, startled by the trust in that statement. "You're awfully calm about a stranger showing up claiming she's bonded to your daughter."
Melissa smiled faintly. "I work nights in an ER full of supernatural emergencies. Calm is a survival skill. Besides…" she tilted her head, eyes sharp, "when Rory looks at you, I see peace. Haven't seen that in her eyes since before everything went sideways."
Her expression softened, but her voice stayed careful. "But that peace scares her. She's been hurt badly enough that it's hard for her to believe anything good can last. She'll make it hard for you, Hope. She'll try to push you away, test every word you say. It's not cruelty—it's fear."
Hope's fingers tightened around her mug. "Then I'll stay anyway," she said quietly. "I don't care how many times she tries to shove me off. I'll keep showing up until she believes I'm not leaving."
Melissa studied her, a flicker of respect crossing her face. "Good," she said. "That's the only thing that might reach her."
Footsteps sounded on the stairs; the water upstairs shut off.
Hope straightened, brushing at her sleeves. "Thank you for telling me."
"Just remember what I said." Melissa's tone softened. "She's tougher than she looks—but she still needs someone to fight for her, not over her."
Hope nodded once, the vow already written behind her eyes.