"What do you mean?" Elijah asked.

"I mean, I'm pretty fucking sure that your brother -- the scary one that seems to be hated by the world's population -- is the man of my dreams. Literally."

"That can't be-"

"Don't try and fight me on this, Eli. I know that face anywhere. Just so happens to be that he's... you know, your brother. Oh, Jesus Christ this is really awkward."

"Ophelia-"

"I need to get out of here," I cut him off, breaking away from our contact. "I need to leave -- I can't be here."

I turned around and quickly walked off, the sound of my black heels echoing very audibly throughout the room despite the loud chatter of the crowd.

"Darling, wait!" Elijah called after me, but I didn't listen. I couldn't breathe through the air that was thick with my own anxieties and the smell of fear. Because Elijah was right. In our world, dreams are never just dreams. Dreams are omens of something greater. Something horrible that was bound to happen. And when that dream involves a man [and my] death? Sorry, but I'll pass.

As I walked through the courtyard quickly, hugging myself to keep warm, I was almost off of the massive estate when someone called me. A familiar voice. The one that haunted every dream I had.

"Stop!" It commanded, but that just pegged me to move faster. "I said, stop!"

And within a split second, he was in front of me, looking even handsomer in real life. But his words seemed to have been lost upon seeing me, leaving him just looking at me in mystery and intrigue.

"Excuse me," I said bodly, jaw clenched. "I am trying to go home."

"You're an exact replica..." he whispered to himself, his eyes glazing over. "No. This can't be."

"Did you not hear me?" I asked louder. "I said that I have to go home now."

"Who are you?!"

I sighed and took a deep breath as he roared at me, using his hybrid authority that he thought he had over me, and I am sure he used a lot, if not on the daily.

"If this is how you're trying to get me to give you information I have no interest in giving you, then you must know something about me." I said, looking him in the eyes. "I do not appreciate being yelled at."

Suddenly I was being pushed up against the wall by my throat, panicking at the loss of air flow that I was experiencing. I may have been damn-near invincible, but that doesn't mean that I can't have fears. Like, oh, I don't know, being choked.

"How are you taking form in this body?" He screamed in my face, eyes becoming glossier by the second. "She is gone! She has been dead for centuries -- Who are you? What is your purpose here? Is it to weaken me? Who sent you?!"

"Niklaus!" A familiar voice screamed, followed by a gust of wind, revealing my fairy god father himself. Elijah. "Let her down, now!"

"What artifice is this, brother?!" Klaus growled.

"I do not understand what you are talking about, brother, but I can assure you that you don't want to make enemies with her."

"Why?" He asked, smiling like the cocky asshole I've heard so much about him being. "What makes her so special, brother? Has your nobility finally gone to your head?"

"No." I croaked out. "Call me crazy, but it may be because I am witch royalty."

His eyebrows furrowed for a second before his eyes went to the size of saucers.

"In fact, I'm sort of their queen."