It was nearly midnight when Hope sat down on the edge of her bed, looking around her empty room in brief astonishment. She nestled most of her belongings in the cardboard moving boxes, including the leather-bound grimoires she kept tucked away under a few loose floorboards in her closet.

These books had belonged to her Grandmother Esther, her Great Aunt Dahlia, and even a few that once belonged to Camille - one of her father's past loves who had requested Hope receive all her supernatural inventory before she tragically died.

Leaning back on her mattress, she grazed her nimble fingers over the violet comforter. She'd pack that away into a box tomorrow morning.

A sudden swarm of butterflies battled inside her stomach as she imagined how tomorrow would turn out. She'd be leaving in only a few short hours for an early start. Would there be an argument before her departure? Would it leave her feeling like she couldn't come back home? Maybe they'd make her feel guilty enough that she'd decide to call the whole trip off.

Despite her better judgment, she allowed the disturbing thoughts to ease her into a troubled sleep.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Hope couldn't tell if her heart was beating erratically out of control or if multiple heartbeats surrounded her.

She twisted in bed, frantically whipping her head to the side in her sleep.

A hand, no hands, touched her. First, they groped her shoulders. Then glided down her waist, groping her body with intense strength and passion. Almost as though it wasn't just her body the hands wanted to get ahold of, but her very soul.

She began breathing heavier, almost panting as her body writhed under the pretense of the touch as though it were happening. A dewy sweat sprouted over her hot-to-the-touch skin.

In an instant, the hands turned to claws that dug deeply into her chest, tearing at her flesh, trying to claw their way into her heart.

Hope released a horrified gasp as she sat bolt upright, her hands clutching her chest protectively, ensuring everything was still in its place. She'd had dreams like this before. Dreams when what she longed for tried to reach her heart, but nothing like this. Never anything so intense.

Feeling hot and sticky, Hope ran a hand through her hair and glanced over at the clock. Almost six. An appropriate time to get up, she thought, primarily because she didn't want to risk entering that dream world again. Pushing back her hair and tying it into a high ponytail, she slipped off the bed and made her way to the bathroom, grabbing a plush towel.

The water cascading down her body, tight with tension from the dream, felt more incredible than she thought possible. She took care to pamper her skin before stepping out and wrapping the towel around her body. The medicine cabinet mirror was too foggy to see herself until she reached forward and wiped away some of the moisture.

She stared at her dark eyes. They were wide with interest but didn't hold the courage she had desired to see.

Hope wasn't what you'd call naturally intimidating. No, she was petite. At first glance, anyway. But, underneath the towel, her body wasn't soft and subjected to bruising. Instead, she toned her muscles over the many training sessions with her family. Little did the world know that Hope Mikaelson was a fighter.

Getting dressed and packing the rest of the items she planned to take to California wasn't an issue, nor was lugging down her boxes into the back of her black Crossover. The tricky part, as cliche as it was- saying goodbye. Hope knew it would be difficult, but she hadn't expected it to be so heartbreaking to see her mother's proud, worried smile.

"Promise me you'll call as soon as you get there, and if you have to stop along the way..." she and her mother embraced warmly, tears threatening to spill when she whispered, "Stay safe" in her ear.

"And you have your stay in order?" Elijah asked.

"Yes," Hope responded, "I've set everything with the realtor. All documents and paperwork are submitted and approved. All that's left is to move in." She hugged her uncle. "And I know you'll always answer my call if I have questions."

"Always," Elijah's voice was soft as he squeezed her back, a reassuring sign.

When they'd said their goodbyes, Hope sat in the driver's seat of her car, her father holding onto the window frame as he spoke.

"If you, for any reason at all, need us, we will be there so quickly you'll have whiplash for days."

"I won't be gone forever. I'll be back before you know it," she smiled. "With hopefully more interesting stories to tell than I can count."

Klaus smiled crookedly and nodded slowly, chewing on his lower lip. "I know, and we will be here waiting for you. Family-"

"Always and forever," she finished with a smile. "Bye, dad...I love you." He knew that, but it was necessary, especially coming from her.

Klaus took her hand in his, letting her feel the strength of her protector. "I love you, too, sweetheart," he leaned forward and kissed her forehead, "be careful."

With a nod and a smile, she put the car into gear. If she didn't press on the gas now, she never would, so she eased up on the break as he stepped back and started down the street. Hope made her way through the traffic and onto the interstate ramp.

She rolled down her window, let the wind whip her hair erratically, and took one last whiff of the distinct New Orleans air. Then, setting her gaze ahead, she allowed her instincts to lead her towards whatever it was that called to her in Beacon Hills.