Darkness was everywhere.

It was everything.

Hope had never appreciated the light of the world more than she had at that moment. The moment she opened her eyes to pure ink. Cold spread goosebumps over the bare limbs she couldn't see and made her toes curl in, trying to protect the unprotected skin.

Hearing the nearby drip drip drip was the only indicator that she wasn't dead.

In all honesty, Hope wasn't sure if she should be relieved by that. After what just happened... Hope shuddered.

Slowly, she sat up. She didn't get very far, only a couple of feet, and her forehead was met with a hard surface. To the touch and slicked with a thin coat of slime. Her inner voice knew it was some sort of algae, but that didn't prevent the panic from rising. She lay back down on the slab with a short gasp.

Claustrophobic.

Suffocation.

Decomposition.

The words pelted her thoughts. Hope's breaths became shallower as a hot sweat dewed her body, warming her fingers and toes in an instant. Suddenly, instead of feeling like she was in a slimy ice-box, it was like she'd be submerged in a fiery inferno.

Hard rock encompassed her body below, above, and to her sides. Hope slapped her hands against the rock above and gave a mighty push. With an exasperated grunt, she let her hands drop to her chest, blinking the moisture from her eyes.

She tried again.

And again.

Finally, her shaking elbows gave out and dropped to her body in a limp heap. Her brow quivered, eyes pinching shut as she let out a cry. The salted tears ran over her skin, slipping between her lips.

This was it. This was how she'd die.

"Mom?" she asked in a soft, quavering whisper.

The tears began to flow more freely.

"Da-ad?" her voice quivered.

Pinching her eyes closed, Hope pictured their faces, imagining their voices.

They were loud and clear.

"You're not just a Mikaelson, darling," her father's voice said, "You're Hope Mikaelson. You're a fighter."

"I'm Hope Mikaelson. I'm a fighter." Hope whispered softly through her sore throat. Then, opening her eyes, she glared into the darkness.

"I'm Hope Mikaelson! I'm a fighter!" She screamed into the darkness. It was an angry scream. She didn't care how painful the echo was. Didn't care if they thought they could break her - what mattered was that they hadn't and they wouldn't.

Earlier, they thought they'd break her by forcing her into these games. By forcing her hand to kill another, but they hadn't. They never would, not while she still had breath in her body.

Grinding her teeth, she forced her eyes to stay open. Meeting the dark, enclosed space. She could feel the barrier of magic around her and knew it would be futile to lift. Especially while so weak. So, she lay there and waited.

"Be patient," Elijah's voice interrupted her thoughts, "Revenge is best when savored."

It wasn't certain how much time had passed before the sound of grinding stones woke Hope. Though dim, the light that entered blinded her after being without sight for so long.

She wasn't sure if she'd fallen asleep from exhaustion or passed out from lack of ventilation. Either way, when her eyes landed on the hand pushing the slab above her away, she didn't hesitate to pounce.

Her fangs sank into soft flesh, her mouth filling with the salty sweetness of fresh blood.

"Hope! Stop!"

Hope did let go, but only because she recognized that voice.

She pulled her mouth away and looked up, meeting Benjamin's icy blue eyes.

"Come on," he started before she could say anything, "I'm getting you out of here. Let's go before they catch on."

To trust him might be insanely stupid, but at that moment staying was not an option. She couldn't stand the thought of spending another minute in that box. It was funny - in a clearly not funny at all kind of way - that it was at this moment she realized she was claustrophobic and deathly afraid of being buried alive.

How riveting.

"You're saving me?" Hope asked, swinging her bare legs over the lip of the coffin she'd been cramped in. A coffin was the only way to describe what it was now that she could see the place for what it was. Built up from the floor out of stone was a coffin-sized holder, complete with a lid that was decorated with chipped-out symbols with a rushed hand. She knew the spell, but it contained a unique twist. One she didn't recognize. Her brows furrowed as she examined it, but a hand on her elbow pulled her from her thoughts. Hope looked up at Benjamin and focused on his hard gaze.

Hope's breath caught somewhere between her throat and her teeth.

"What?" she demanded.

"We need to go, didn't you hear me?"

Hope couldn't remember a time she'd seen Benjamin so distraught. He'd always been put together - well manicured, but she could see it now. She could see it in his eyes.

Pure fear.

It wasn't just her who was in danger. Benjamin had put himself on the line the moment he decided to help her, but the real question was...could she trust him.

Hope nodded quickly "Let's go." She didn't need further convincing, even if she couldn't trust him completely. She had bigger problems than her stupidly handsome rescuer, especially while her legs wobbled dangerously unstable as she made her way across the cold, damp stone.

A firm hand wrapped around her slender arm and she yanked it away as if the simple touch was biting.

"I will not rely on you." Never again, she thought but didn't say. It was one thing to ask her family for help, to allow them to worm their way past the shield she'd tried to put up in an attempt to prove herself capable.

Benjamin? No.

The moment she'd let him take residence in her heart again would be the moment she'd choose her own death.

Benjamin locked his icy blue gaze on hers, but curtly nodded instead of pushing it. Something he would have done in the past.

"Let's go," Hope repeated, before reaching for the door and carefully sliding it open. It was heavy iron, but not so heavy she couldn't let it move without some control.

Silence met her ears from both directions of the hall, which matched the room she was being held in. It seemed she'd been taken to another part of the cavern, but deeper. Somewhere where she was quite literally buried beneath her enemy. A tomb?

Hope didn't want to think of it - she didn't have time to. Not if she wanted to make it out of this alive.

Slowly, she poked her head through the doorway and looked left, then right. No one in sight. Strange, she'd have thought there'd be some sort of security detail. Unless they underestimated her, yet again. Well, what a silly mistake on their part.

"No one followed you?" she whispered over her shoulder to Benjamin.

"Not that I heard," he responded softly, "It's nearly 3:30 in the morning. Most are asleep, and if they're not they're off their guard."

"Sounds like a perfect concoction for something to go wrong," Hope muttered and then smirked, "for them."

Slinking from the room, she inched her way down the hall to the left. Sensing the air seemed a bit light that way. Less dank and depressing. It was an instinctual gamble, but something she'd have to trust.

Hope paused every so often, waiting and listening for any sign that someone might be nearby. Her eyes scanned the edges of the ceiling, but it was difficult to depict any kind of camera in the distorted cavern patterns and gloom.

Continuing until she reached a bend in the hall, she peered around the corner. It diverted into not two, but four separate paths. It seemed like a maze within a maze.

Lovely.

"This way..." Benjamin started around her.

Hope snatched the bicep of his arm so fast she even surprised herself. Her eyes shifted amber, her nose curling as her brows furrowed angrily.

They both said nothing for a long moment.

"I don't expect your trust completely, Hope," he began, voice the most tender she'd ever heard it, "But I want to get out of this alive too. If they catch me helping you, I'm a dead man. If you don't trust my intentions toward you, then at least trust that I truly don't want to die.

Hope stared at his brow intently, refusing to meet his eyes as she mulled his statement over. She finally lowered her gaze to meet his.

"If you're lying to me, Benjamin Holmstrom. Make no mistake. You will die. By my hand and my hand alone."

"Understood..." he murmured, but Hope sensed no fear from him. Not a skipped heartbeat, not even a drop of sweat on his brow. Perhaps he really was telling the truth.

Maybe she could-

Hope's thought was interrupted by the sound of distant footsteps.

A million thoughts raced through her mind, but she didn't get a chance to follow through on any of them. She felt herself being pulled back and into a dark, what seemed to be, a broom closet. Benjamin's arms ensnared around her waist, her back pressed against his chest.

In the dark, Hope could usually see something, but only if there was at least a little light. In this four-foot by four-foot closet, there was not a speck of light within the entire square footage to offer her any aid.

Hope saw nothing, but she felt everything.

Benjamin's arms embraced her - so protectively. She felt his warm breath tickling the sensitive part behind her ear.

Hope could feel his heart against her, remembering how she'd believed it had once pumped only for him.

That had been a lie.

Benjamin was a selfish, garish man. He cared for nothing but himself and his status. Though, he didn't feel like that at that moment, locked away in the dark together with nothing between them but their breaths and their clothing which suddenly felt horribly restrictive to Hope.

How it happened is a mystery to Hope, but it happened nonetheless.

Her front was somehow pressed to Benjamin's now, their breaths mingling before he finally dove in, or she dove in... or they dove together. Hope wasn't sure, but she didn't really care, because one moment she was unable to breathe in the dark and the next she was only breathing him.

Benjamin's tongue swept hungrily across her parched lips and into her mouth where she quickly pushed back. Fighting for her dominance while wrestling her tongue with his, a soft growl in the base of her chest.

His hands, much like cold marble, left streaks of goosebumps down her arms and sides where he reached up her shirt. Fingers danced across the sensitive skin of her belly while the delicious combination of mint and citrus made her mouth water. His scent sent her brain into a delirious phase of emotions.

Hope found her fingers threading up into his hair, yanking on his fine black hair cut close to his scalp, but not too close she couldn't get a good grip.

Benjamin moaned softly, he'd always loved having his hair played with if she remembered correctly.

She found herself pressed firmly against the wall of the tiny space, the temperature not phasing her as she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled herself closer.

Hope needed this, needed him...

Wait. No, she didn't.

Benjamin's thumb grazed the hardened peak of one of her breasts while his other hand stroked featherlight against the sensitive spot she had behind her ear.

Damn him for knowing her so well.

Hope bit down on his lip, hard enough to draw blood, and then pulled her head back with a panting gasp. He took that moment to kiss down her throat eagerly, unphased by the blood she'd drawn.

"Stop."

Benjamin froze.

Their panting breaths synchronized for a moment as they gathered their bearings.

"You're sure?" He finally asked.

"That's what stop means, dumbass." Hope retorted shortly and untangled herself from him.

He didn't hesitate to let her go.

Hope let herself think in the silence for a moment, and could feel his steady patience cut through her like a knife. Why did he suddenly have to be so understanding? This was not the Benjamin she knew long ago. This new, decent Benjamin was very difficult to continue being angry with.

Why was she angry?

She knew the answer to the question the moment she thought it.

Because she wished he'd been this way all those years ago. Now, when she's finally moved on, he's a different man? Was this some rom-com she didn't understand the punch-line to?

"I hate you..." Hope finally murmured.

She was met with silence, and for a moment she thought maybe he'd even just vanished or that she was just dreaming and still trapped in that sarcophagus.

"You don't have to..." his voice finally rang out, warm and clear. Like bells on Christmas day.

"But I want to. It'll make things a lot easier." Hope scoffed, but there was no power behind it. She was thoroughly irritated, but couldn't find the strength to fight back with her usual spite.

Another pause.

"Maybe one day you'll see it."

"See what?"

His voice bathed her body in honey and silk, "That I still love you."

The door opened, blinding Hope for a moment, but then a face came into focus.

"Dorian, long time no see." Her voice was much lighter than she'd thought it would be, considering the circumstances.

His stone expression would have chilled her if she weren't so annoyed.

"Seems the creature escaped her cage, and who do we have here?" He tsked his tongue, his eyes turning to Benjamin. "My, my. The punishment will just have to be doubled, I suppose."

Hope glanced over at Benjamin, his pale face showing no emotion, but she could tell. He was scared.

Why did that make her so angry?

"You saw what I did," she said, turning to Dorian again, "Yet you stand here unafraid. Awfully ignorant of you."

Dorian's low chuckle started deep in his chest and continued to rise.

"I'd love to see you try, princess."

Challenge accepted, she thought. Concentrating, she focused her energy on him. Imagining his body writhing in pain from burst blood vessels all throughout his body. Imagined his screams of agony as he begged for his death.

But that didn't happen. No, he continued to smirk at her. That smirk broadened into a wicked grin.

"Ah..." he reached forward and took her hand in his, his thumb tracing the silver band around her wrist. A strange thin stripe of silvery blue ran around the middle of the band. "Seems you're quite defenseless, Hope Mikaelson. This is the latest in Shadowtech Technology. Keeps all of those nasty little spells under control. Virtually indestructible. Lovely, isn't it?"

Hope looked up at him, a fire growing in her belly. Suddenly her palm slammed into his nose so hard she not only heard but felt his nose crack against her flesh.

"Call me defenseless again and I'll twist this prison bracelet off like a bottle cap in your ass."

Benjamin roared in laughter next to her.

The murderous glare on Dorian's features never left Hope's face as he snarled a quick order to the men hiding against the wall of the hallway.

"Take him to the break room, and no that doesn't sound as pleasant as you might think, princess. Teach him a little lesson on manners and I'll meet you shortly. I have my own private lesson to teach this creature about the importance of keeping her hands to herself."

Benjamin made to move, but he wasn't fast enough and Dorian snatched him by the throat. Tossing him to the side, he didn't so much as blink his gaze away from Hope's as the men grabbed Benjamin in any way they could to drag him down the hall. Not that he put up much of a fight, it seemed he knew what was to come and was embracing it.

Hope wouldn't be embracing anything.

She'd demolish it.

"You won't be smiling for long" Dorian growled, eyes flashing as a trickle of blood made its way from his nose and down his upper lip.

"We'll see." Hope retorted with a sly smirk. She only wished she felt as confident as she appeared. She was scared - terrified even, but she couldn't let it show.

"Yes, we will. I'll see you hung by your toes as I drive a stake through your heart."

"Jokes on you. I'm into that shit."

Dorian grabbed her by the arm and dragged her from the closet, rolling his eyes so hard she was surprised they didn't pop out of their sockets.

"I'm quite annoyed with you, princess. Maybe I'll start with that tongue of yours." He shoved her down the dark hallway and there was nothing more she could do than struggle against his vice-like grip. The strength she had was nothing compared to her magic, and without that, she was at a disadvantage.

A dangerous disadvantage.

There was no telling now what he'd do to her...or how much longer she'd last.

Icy fear pierced her stomach as they entered a room ladened with chains on greasy walls alongside hanging sharp, metal instruments of torture.

Dad, she thought, hurry.