The morning light flooded the simple hotel room, no longer with the melancholy of the day before, but with a golden glow that seemed to reflect Hope's state of mind. She woke slowly, snuggled in Ethan's arms, the warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear the purest definition of home she had felt in a long, long time. A lazy smile curved her lips before she even opened her eyes. The feeling of emptiness had disappeared, replaced by a radiant fullness, a calm certainty that she was no longer alone in this confusing universe.
Ethan was already awake, watching her with a tenderness that softened the lines of his normally serious face. His heterochromatic blue-and-green eyes shone with deep affection as he gently brushed a strand of hair from her face. "Good morning, Kitten," he whispered, his voice husky with sleep but filled with a warmth that made her heart skip a happy beat.
"Good morning," she replied, her voice a little muffled against his chest. She lifted her head to look at him, and the world seemed to narrow down to the space between them, to the shared glow in their eyes.
Getting out of bed, however, proved to be an unexpected challenge. Just as Hope tried to move her legs out from under the covers, a sharp stab of pain and an unfamiliar sensitivity made her let out an involuntary little moan and stop. Shit. Even with her accelerated Tribrid healing, the intensity of the night before—her first time, and with Ethan, whose strength and… presence were something out of the ordinary—had left her muscles sore and an uncomfortable sensitivity between her legs. She moved again, more carefully this time, a slight grimace of discomfort crossing her face.
Ethan noticed immediately. His smile softened even more, laced with genuine concern. He said nothing about her pain, silently understanding, but he held out his hand. "Easy there," he murmured, helping her sit up with a gentleness that contrasted with his possessiveness from the night before. He stood first, quickly pulling on a pair of jeans and a clean black t-shirt from his backpack before searching for her clothes, which were tossed near the bed.
Hope felt her face flush as he handed her the clothes, avoiding his gaze as she dressed hurriedly, moving with an unusual stiffness in her hips. Every movement was a physical reminder of the surrender and overwhelming passion they shared. She was radiant inside, floating on a cloud of happiness and belonging, but her body protested in a very human way.
It didn't take long for them to be ready. Ethan grabbed his new leather jacket and helmet. "Ready to face the world outside?" he asked, a glint of amusement in his eyes, offering her his hand again.
"Sort of," she laughed, accepting his hand. "But with you, I think I can."
The ride back to the Salvatore School on the Harley was different from the night before. The wind still whipped through her hair, but now Hope clung to Ethan not out of need or fear, but out of pure pleasure and connection. She rested her head against his broad back, feeling the vibration of the engine and the heat of his body, the goofy smile never wanting to leave his face. The world seemed brighter, the colors more vivid. That emptiness that had been with her for so long was filled, and the feeling was intoxicating.
By the time they reached the school gates, the campus was just beginning to wake up. Ethan parked his bike near the main entrance, turning off the roaring engine. He got off first, then turned to help her, his hands steady on her waist as she slid carefully to the ground, trying to hide the slight difficulty in immediately balancing herself.
He removed his helmet, his dark hair tousled by the wind, and faced her. The morning light brought out the gleam in his mismatched eyes. "There you go. Safely delivered," he said, his tone light, playful.
"Thanks for the ride...and for everything," Hope replied, her voice a little lower, feeling the blush return to her cheeks.
Ethan smiled, a smile that promised more. He leaned in, and before Hope could even blink, his lips met hers in a searing kiss, right there in front of everyone who cared to see. It wasn't a quick kiss; it was deep, passionate, a silent affirmation of what had been reborn between them. His hands came up to cup her face, his thumbs stroking her cheeks, while her mouth responded with equal fervor. The world around them disappeared for a few glorious moments.
When they finally pulled away, they were both panting, their lips slightly swollen. "I have to go to work," Ethan said, his voice hoarse, reluctant to let go. "Marty will have my hide if I'm late again."
"Alright," Hope laughed, still tasting him on her lips. "Go for it, handsome mechanic."
He laughed too, gave her one last quick peck, put on his helmet and climbed onto his bike. With one last look that promised more to come, he sped off, the sound of the Harley echoing through the yard as he rode away towards the city.
Hope stood there for a moment, watching him go, a dreamy smile on her face and a warm feeling in her chest. She felt whole again. The world had color, it had sound, it had meaning . What was missing had been found, and it went by the name of Ethan Nichols.
Taking a deep breath, she turned to enter the school, happiness bubbling inside her. It wasn't until she started walking down the main hallway, towards her room, that she noticed the stares. And then she realized why. She was walking… strangely. She tried to straighten her posture, to disguise the stiffness, but it was no use. There was a soreness there, a muscular discomfort that made her take careful steps, almost limping slightly.
"Hope?" A familiar and unmistakably direct voice sounded behind her. Hope stopped, turning slowly to find Lizzie Saltzman leaning against one of the lockers, arms crossed and one blonde eyebrow arched in curiosity. Lizzie's gaze swept over Hope from head to toe, immediately noticing her hesitant gait. "What happened to you? You're walking all crooked, like you got run over by a garden gnome."
Hope's face heated instantly. She forced a smile, trying to sound casual. "Oh, nothing, Lizzie, really. I just… I think I sprained my ankle, you know," she stammered, the excuse sounding weak even to her own ears.
Lizzie unfolded her arms, tilting her head and narrowing her blue eyes, watching Hope more closely as she took a few more careful steps. "Ankle sprain?" Lizzie repeated, her tone skeptical. "Funny, you're limping on both legs , and it feels more like a stiffness…here." Lizzie gestured vaguely toward her hips, her mind working quickly. Wait…that way of walking…that stiffness, the way she tries not to…I know it. A specific memory flashed in Lizzie's eyes, a personal one of a sore morning after a certain first time .
She looked back at Hope, but with a new perspective. The flush on Hope's face, the gleam in her eyes that wasn't just happiness, but something more... intimate. And the intensity of her apparent pain. "But... wow," Lizzie continued, her voice dropping a little, her eyes slowly widening as the pieces clicked into place with a mental click. "Hope, not only are you walking like I did after my first time...
Hope's jaw dropped slightly, her blush deepening until her ears felt like they were burning. She opened her mouth to protest, but no sound came out.
Lizzie's eyes widened, realization hitting her with the force of a revelation spell. A small gasp escaped her lips. "Oh my God, Hope!" she exclaimed, her voice rising in shock and disbelief, completely forgetting to whisper in the now less empty hallway. "You… you lost your virginity! I can't believe it! It was with Ethan, wasn't it?"
Hope froze, her face burning, completely mortified. Lizzie's direct accusation, delivered with such certainty and accuracy, left her speechless. Before she could even think of denying it or running away, Lizzie grabbed her arm, her blue eyes shining with an almost feverish curiosity, completely ignoring the possible embarrassment.
"Tell me everything!" Lizzie hissed, bringing her face close to hers, her voice now an excited whisper. "Where? When exactly? Was it at his little hotel? How did it happen? Was it good? Did it hurt a lot? Is he... is he really as... well-endowed as he seems? Come on, Hope, spill the beans! I need to know every sordid detail!" The questions came out like a machine gun, fast, invasive, full of that energy that was characteristic of Lizzie when something piqued her gossipy interest.
Hope pulled her arm away, her face turning from red to almost purple. "Lizzie! Will you stop?" she nearly screamed, looking around to see if anyone else was listening. "Not here! For God's sake!" She took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure, and put on a serious, almost exasperated expression. "Do I really have to tell you... all of this? These are... personal details." The last word came out almost like a plea for privacy.
Lizzie rolled her eyes dramatically, but didn't give in. "Of course you do!" she insisted, leaning in again, a conspiratorial smile on her lips. "Girlfriends tell each other these things! It's like... rule number one of girl code! Details, Mikaelson, I need details! It's crucial to our friendship that you share!" She winked, making it obvious that despite her light tone, she wasn't going to let go of the bone any time soon.
Hope let out a long sigh, a mixture of defeat and perhaps a hint of resigned amusement at her friend's stubbornness. She knew Lizzie wouldn't leave her alone. "Okay, okay!" she relented, running her hand over her face. "But for God's sake, not here in the middle of the hallway! My walk is already attracting enough attention." She grimaced, an involuntary reminder of the physical discomfort. "Come to my room." Hope began to walk, still carefully, towards the girls' dormitory. "And... I desperately need a shower. Urgent." The last part was said with an emphasis that implied a need to ease the pain and perhaps wash away the physical memories of the night before.
Lizzie smiled triumphantly, following Hope hurriedly down the hallway, already babbling about how she wanted to hear every moment, barely able to contain her excitement at the prospect of all the intimate details that were to come once they reached the privacy of Hope's room.
Hope unlocked her bedroom door and walked in, with Lizzie close behind. "Okay, Mrs. Curious," Hope said, pointing to her own bed. "Sit there and wait. I need that shower."
As Hope disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of the shower turning on soon after, Lizzie flopped onto Hope's bed with a satisfied sigh, looking around the room with the air of someone who was about to receive the gossip of the century. She drummed her fingers impatiently on the bedspread.
Twenty minutes later, Hope emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a fluffy towel, her damp hair plastered to her neck, the steam still hanging lightly in the air. She felt better physically, the hot water easing her aching muscles, but her face was still flushed, and there was a new glow in her eyes—a mix of newfound happiness and the vulnerability of someone who'd had her world turned upside down. She grabbed a pair of clean clothes—comfortable sweatpants and a simple T-shirt—and began to dress quickly under Lizzie's watchful eye.
"And then?" Lizzie asked the moment Hope finished putting on her shirt, unable to contain her curiosity any longer. "Spit it out, Mikaelson! How was it? I want to know everything !"
Hope took a deep breath, sitting down on the bed next to Lizzie, hugging a pillow to her chest as if she needed a protective barrier. A small, shy smile played on her lips. "It was…" she began, her voice low, almost a whisper, "it was intense, Lizzie. More intense than anything I've ever felt."
She looked away for a moment, searching for the right words. "It wasn't just… physical. It was the connection. Ever since… ever since I met him, actually," she corrected herself quickly, remembering that Lizzie didn't share those deep memories she'd just revisited. "Ever since I understood some things about him… about us… I guess because of the Imprint… everything feels right. Being with him… it feels like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be." She blushed again at the mention of the term that was still so new and overwhelming to her. "And yes, it was my first time."
Lizzie's eyes widened. "I knew it! The way you walk!" she exclaimed, punching Hope excitedly on the arm. "So what? Was he... careful? Gentle? Because seriously, he seems kind of... intense, doesn't he?" Lizzie paused, frowning, curiosity replacing her initial excitement. "Wait a minute. Did you say... Imprint ? What the hell is that, Hope? I've never heard of it."
Hope blinked, startled for a moment, then remembered that the concept was as strange and specific as Ethan's own erased existence. She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts, Tory's explanations echoing in Ethan's mind, now part of his own understanding.
"It's... it's complicated, Lizzie," Hope began, choosing her words carefully. "From what Ethan told me, and from what I've sensed... it's a werewolf thing. But not all of them, just the... different ones, like he apparently is. It's like a soul tie. His mom said his dad explained it... it's like the universe chooses someone for you, and that person becomes the center of your world. A connection that goes beyond everything else, that pulls you in, that makes you feel... whole." She gestured, trying to explain the invisible force she felt. "That's why... everything with him is so... strong. So fast."
Lizzie was silent for a moment, taking in the explanation, her blue eyes wide with shock. "Soul bonds? Like… werewolf soulmates with superpowers?" Disbelief colored her voice. She thought of the Ethan she'd seen—the guy who'd fought the Oni, the giant werewolf Landon had told people at school he was, the kid with the hypnotic eyes. "So… the mysterious guy who shows up out of nowhere, turns into a giant wolf, and looks at you like he's going to devour you… he has a supernatural soul bond with you?"
The way Lizzie summed it up made Hope blush even more, but she nodded slowly. "Yes," he admitted, his voice barely audible. "And it's scary."
Lizzie let out a low whistle. "Scary is an understatement! That explains a lot! Explains why you've been acting so strange, why he's been looking at you like that… Wow." She shook her head, processing. "So the 'mysterious wanderer' is actually your Imprinted werewolf soulmate?" Her initial shock gave way to barely concealed fascination.
Hope bit her lower lip, looking down at her hands. "It's more complicated than that, Lizzie. There's... other things. Things he told me about his past... about why no one remembered him..." The mention of Lucifer hung in the air, but she wasn't ready to share that yet.
Lizzie noticed the hesitation, the shadow that passed through Hope's eyes. She could be invasive, but she could also recognize pain. She stepped closer, slinging an arm around her friend's shoulders. "Okay, one bomb at a time," she said, her tone softer now. "But seriously, Hope. A soul bond? That's… epic. Fairytale-level dark. You're like… super in love, right?"
Hope finally looked up at Lizzie, a gleam of genuine happiness mixed with uncertainty in her gaze. "I guess so," she admitted again, this time with a small smile. "It's scary how fast, but… it doesn't feel wrong. It feels… inevitable."
Lizzie smiled back, a wide smile that was perhaps a little envious, but mostly happy for her friend. "Oh, Hope," she said, squeezing her shoulder. "So take your time, figure things out slowly with your destined and mysterious wolf." She paused, and a mischievous glint appeared in her blue eyes. "But seriously now, friend... let's face it, Ethan is super hot, right? Like, Greek god level werewolf with those crazy eyes. Lucky you!"
Hope, who was beginning to relax, immediately scowled, shooting Lizzie a glare. Her arms, which had loosened their grip on the pillow, crossed tightly over her chest again. Even without words, the message was clear: Don't talk about my man like that.
Lizzie noticed the glare immediately and burst out laughing, raising her hands in surrender. "Whoa! Easy there, beast!" she said, laughing. "I'm kidding! I mean, he 's hot, I'm not gonna lie, but I'm kidding about your 'luck'... kind of." She winked. "The important thing is that you're happy. And look," she added, her tone turning serious again for a moment, "if that idiot wolf, even if he's your hot soulmate, hurts you, you just let me know and I'll turn him into a shag rug."
Hope rolled her eyes at Lizzie's lack of filter, but couldn't help but smile a little. "You're impossible, you know that?"
"I know," Lizzie replied proudly.
Hope laughed, feeling a huge weight lift from her shoulders. Talking to Lizzie, even with the twists and turns, had helped. She wasn't alone in this. She had a friend who remembered, who supported her (in her own peculiar way). And then there was Ethan, with all his mysteries, his intensity, and apparently his newly confirmed status as a "hot wolf." Whatever the future held, for the first time in a long time, Hope felt that maybe, just maybe, things might finally work out.