Zach leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed tightly as he scrutinized Jacob, his eyes narrowing slightly as they raked over the young man standing before him. His gaze was intense, as if he were trying to piece together the truth behind the unfamiliar face. "So… you're saying you're Aurora's twin brother, and Uncle Stefan's son," Zach said slowly, his voice filled with a mixture of skepticism and curiosity.
Jacob stood across from him, his posture calm but his jaw set with determination. He nodded, his eyes meeting Zach's, unwavering. "Yes," he confirmed, his voice firm but not defensive. There was a quiet weight behind his words, as if every syllable carried the burden of years spent in Klaus's shadow.
Zach's eyes flickered, his brow furrowing as he absorbed the revelation. He studied Jacob for a moment longer, trying to reconcile the familiar features with the unknown story that had just unfolded in front of him. There was something about Jacob—the sharp lines of his face, the way his eyes held a certain depth, an echo of Stefan's—but also something distinctly different. An edge that hinted at a life lived under far darker skies.
Finally, Zach exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing ever so slightly, though wariness lingered in his eyes. He gestured to the couch in the living room. "Well, make yourself comfortable, I guess," he said, his voice softening but still carrying a hint of reservation.
Jacob nodded again, a small, appreciative smile flickering across his lips as he walked into the room. He moved with quiet grace, the kind of ease that came from years of knowing how to navigate dangerous situations. As he sank down onto the couch, his eyes began to wander around the room, taking in the space that held fragments of a life he'd never been a part of.
His gaze lingered on the framed photographs adorning the walls. There was one of Stefan—his father—standing beside a younger Aurora. Both were smiling, their faces lit with a warmth that Jacob had rarely seen in his sister. And next to them stood Damon, whose smirk looked as if it had been captured mid-laugh. The sight of his sister, genuinely happy in those moments, tugged at something deep within Jacob, something he hadn't felt in a long time.
A small, almost wistful smile crept across his face as he stared at the photo. He let out a quiet breath, his eyes softening, the tension in his body easing. She's happy, he thought, a sense of relief washing over him. He had made the right choice all those years ago, letting Aurora stay with Stefan and Damon. Despite everything he had sacrificed, despite the torment of Klaus and the years spent in the shadows, this—her happiness—had made it all worth it.
Zach, standing a few feet away, noticed the subtle shift in Jacob's expression. He raised an eyebrow, curious. "Something on your mind?" he asked, his voice casual but probing.
Jacob's eyes flickered back to Zach, and the brief softness in his expression hardened again, like a mask slipping back into place. "No, nothing," he said, his voice even. He glanced around once more before leaning back into the couch, letting the tension in his muscles unwind.
Zach, sensing there was more Jacob wasn't saying, didn't push further. Instead, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "So, what now?" he asked, crossing the room to sit across from Jacob. His tone was serious, the weight of what Jacob had just revealed still hanging heavy in the air. "You said you're here until Klaus arrives. What's your plan?"
Jacob's gaze shifted, a steely resolve settling into his features. "I intend to stay here for the time being," he replied, his voice steady but with a hint of something darker beneath the surface. "Until Klaus comes to break his curse."
The mention of Klaus caused Zach to tense again, his hand gripping the armrest tightly. He had heard enough about Klaus to know that whatever brought him here wouldn't be good for anyone involved. But there was something about Jacob's calm certainty that made Zach uneasy. The way he spoke about it, as if it were inevitable—as if he had been living in the shadow of this moment for years.
Jacob, sensing Zach's unease, shifted slightly, his eyes lingering on the photos once more. "I won't let anything happen to Aurora," he added quietly, his voice soft but resolute. "Or to the rest of the family."
Zach studied him for a long moment, the tension between them palpable. There was a quiet intensity in Jacob's words, a determination that went beyond just protecting the family. There was a deep, personal need driving him—a need to break free from whatever chains Klaus had bound him with.
Finally, Zach nodded, though the lines of worry on his face hadn't entirely faded. "Alright," he said, leaning back in his chair. "We'll figure it out. Together."
Jacob gave a small nod in return, his expression unreadable. But deep down, beneath the layers of carefully controlled emotions, there was a flicker of something—hope. Perhaps, for the first time in years, he was finally stepping out of the shadows.
Some few months later
The moon hung low in the sky, casting an eerie silver glow over the deserted road. A man lay sprawled on the cold asphalt, his eyes closed, unmoving. Beside him, a girl, equally still, her delicate form limp as if they had both been abandoned by life itself. Their lifeless figures were chilling, barely illuminated by the headlights of an approaching vehicle.
The car's engine hummed, cutting through the stillness of the night, before screeching to a halt just a few feet away from the bodies. The headlights flooded the scene with harsh light, revealing the unsettling stillness of the man and the girl. The air grew thick with tension as the door to the car creaked open, and a man and woman stepped out, their shoes crunching on the gravel as they hurried toward the prone figures.
"God, what happened?" the woman whispered, her voice shaking as she crouched beside the man's body, her fingers trembling as she reached for his pulse. Her boyfriend stood nearby, scanning the area nervously, his heart pounding in his chest as fear gnawed at his gut.
The woman leaned closer, her hand hovering just above the man's neck, trying to hear a heartbeat. Her breath hitched in her throat. Then, without warning, the man's eyes snapped open, gleaming with a twisted kind of amusement. His lips curled into a slow, sinister smile.
The woman gasped, stumbling backward in shock, her heart racing. But before she could react, the man vanished, disappearing as if he had never been there.
"Tom!" she cried, spinning around at the sound of her boyfriend's strangled scream.
Her blood ran cold as she saw him, his eyes wide with terror. The man who had been lying lifeless on the ground now stood behind him, his teeth buried deep in Tom's neck, blood trickling down in thin rivulets. Tom's body convulsed, his hands clawing at the man's arms, his legs buckling beneath him. His eyes met hers in silent desperation as his strength drained away with every passing second.
The woman's legs gave out beneath her, and she nearly collapsed, barely managing to catch herself. Her breath came in short, panicked gasps, her mind unable to process what she was seeing. But before she could hit the ground, a hand reached out, steadying her.
She turned, gasping for air, only to find a pair of cold, predatory eyes staring back at her. A woman with long, flowing blonde hair, whose beauty was as chilling as it was mesmerizing, held her up with unnatural strength.
The woman tried to scream, but her throat closed up, paralyzed by the terror coursing through her veins. Then, in a voice as smooth as silk and laced with malice, the stranger whispered, "Don't you know better than to turn your back on someone in need of help?"
Before she could react, the woman's teeth sank into her neck, piercing her flesh like knives. A sharp, burning pain shot through her, and she gasped, her hands grasping uselessly at the air. Her heartbeat faltered, slowing, weakening, as she felt her life force being pulled from her, each second pulling her closer to oblivion.
Her vision blurred, the world around her growing distant and dark. The last thing she saw before everything went black was the man wiping his mouth, blood staining his lips as he stepped toward his companion.
"You did well, Aurora," he said, his voice filled with satisfaction, his eyes glinting with cruel delight. He wiped the remaining blood from his lips and stretched his arms as if shaking off years of rust. "Man, it feels good to be back."