Note: I apologize if the pacing is sloppy I just really wanted to finish this before Klonnie week ends. Thank you so much to everyone who left reviews, I'm flattered and humbled by the number of people who've liked and commented on this little fic. This was a joy to write, and while I can't promise anything, I do plan on writing more Klonnie in the future. Thanks again everyone, and please leave a comment if you have time :) xoxoxox

"And if we're strong enough/ Together we can take the world apart, my love." - Garbage

She is full of the ocean. Waves rock her, fill her with soothing sonorous songs like she is a conch shell.

Bonnie allows herself to float, becomes salt, foam, air, hollowed out and clean.

She wonders if she's dead, if this is what eternity feels like.

Sometimes she hears her mother's voice. Sees her eyes, green like her own. She knows the voice is speaking to her, but the song of the ocean is too tempting a lullaby.

The waters are restless, stirring and bubbling, making her twist. Bonnie tries to float but salt water fills her nose and ears and she coughs.

She can hear lightning and thunder, though the sky is hidden. The wind is a lash, whipping waves into a frenzy.

Where did you

Go child

Why did you

Go child

She feels like her chest is being sawed in half. A sorrow she can't describe rises in her throat.

Go. It's time.

A monstrous wave curls above her, higher and higher until it eclipses her entire world. The green glimmering depths are beautiful in their terrifying vastness.

There is no point in screaming. Bonnie closes her eyes.

Lets the ocean take her.

Her body awakes inch by inch, fingertips tingling, toes curling. It feels like her eyelids are coated in lead. When she pushes them open, her world is flooded with aching color and her head throbs.

"Easy, love," a hand strokes her hair. Bonnie tries again. For a moment, she sees blue and thinks the ocean has reclaimed her. But the blue is cool and calm and resides in his eyes.

Klaus looks down at her, a little smirk on his full lips, "I see a scowl brewing. Must mean you're feeling better."

She tries to sit up on her elbow and fails. Klaus slides an arm beneath her shoulders and eases her back onto the pillows. Pillows. She looks around. Candles cast a soft glimmer over the room. She recognizes the tapestries, the vast bed covered in furs.

"What happened?"

"It seems your magnificent display at the Petrova castle took quite a bit out of you," his hands are tracing slow circles on her back, "It's a good thing I found you before the wolves did."

"Saved from wolves and taken by a werewolf. How very fortunate," she eases up on her shoulder and finds her nose almost brushing his chest. He smells of musk and firewood, a scent that curls into her senses, stirring memories of unrequited kisses. His finger slides beneath her chin, slowly raises her face so their eyes meet.

"You must be feeling better."

She swallows, feeling her heart beat speed up. Almost instantly, she's dizzy. Black spots swim in her gaze and she rubs her forehead, "What's wrong with me?"

Her head lolls against his shoulder as she struggles to stay conscious while he whispers in her ear, "Your body needs to heal," she hears a soft tearing sound, and a sharp coppery scent invades her nostrils. He was offering her his blood.

Some part of her, the part of her that went back, the part of her that wanted to sink beneath the waves, rebels at the thought. She tries to squirm, but his other arm has a firm grip on her waist.

He makes an impatient sound, "Don't be stubborn, love. I have no intention of watching you waste away like some pitiful martyr," he nudges her head forward but she still hesitates. The blood is bubbling up rich and dark against his pale skin. Her empty, burning stomach lurches, even as her eyes are fascinated by the glistening ruby liquid.

It would be nice to feel like herself again. Except she no longer had any idea what that self looked like. Bonnie Bennett, witch and protector, did not drink vampire blood. But Bonnie Bennett, witch and protector, also didn't burn down entire castles filled with people.

The cut on his wrist starts to close, the blood disappearing into the skin. Bonnie curls shaky fingers around his hand and lifts the blood to her mouth.

Hot, metallic flavor swirls over her tongue, tingles down her throat. A warmth coats her lips, spreads to her face and ears and chest until her entire body is buzzing. She presses her mouth harder against the wound and sucks with her teeth. Klaus gives a low groan, fists his other hand in her hair, "That's it, sweetheart."

She sucks until there is nothing left and then licks her lips. A slow pleasure washes through her and she closes her eyes, sighing.

Dreamless sleep covers her.

The morning is grey and soft with rain. Just like her first night there, she wakes up alone. But unlike that day, no extravagant feast surround her. Instead, a single tray sits piled with the most beautiful pomegranates she has ever seen.

Bonnie smiles and gets off the bed, still light-headed but much stronger. A nearby mirror reflects her slender form. She is thinner, and a bit worse for wear, but the green of her eyes is vivid, her skin glowing from the after effects of Klaus' blood. She blushes, remembering how she had swallowed his blood greedy as a newborn vampire.

She is halfway through her second pomegranate when she notices Klaus standing in the doorway, watching her with a slight tilt to his head.

His eyes drift across her body and she waits for him to stride in, but he lingers by the door, looking at her, drinking her in. She becomes conscious of the soft linen shift flowing over her curves, feeling like a lamb in the wolf's gaze.

Fear and elation flow through her veins and the familiar spark manifests in her fingertips. Her magic rears its head, piqued and ready.

This lamb had claws.

She comes around the table, leans against the wood and rolls her shoulders. His eyes are riveted on her every move. The embroidered neckline of her shift slips off one shoulder and his mouth falls open a tiny bit. Bonnie smirks.

"Invite me in," he says in a low voice.

For a moment she is nonplussed, "This is your castle, you need no invitation."

His smile is all dimples and flashing eyes, demon wearing an angelic face, "Oh love, I was thinking of an entirely different kind of invitation," his gaze devours her bare shoulder, and her skin tingles with the memory of his touch, "though perhaps I need to convince you."

He is beside her in a flash, brushing her cheek with the back of his fingers, "I can be very convincing."

Bonnie arches an eyebrow, masking her racing heart with bravado, "Well then, prince Niklaus, convince me."

The shift in his eyes from languid to wolfish is like a lake darkening before a storm. A gasp falls from her lips when she feels the the wooden table below her rump before she'd even registered his hands on her hips.

Klaus steps between her knees, so her shift rides up on parted thighs. "Close your eyes, love," he murmurs against her neck, kissing her heated skin.

"Klaus -," a mild panic steals over her, "I'm not-."

He kisses her mouth like they have all of eternity just for this. Slow, coaxing, so tender it aches, so tortuous she almost begs for more. Bonnie digs into his shoulders, bites on his mouth, edges herself closer and tighter against him. When he breaks the kiss she gives a small whimper of protest.

"What-"

He is kneeling between her legs, kissing along the inside of her thigh while his eyes watch her. She shivers when his teeth graze her skin. That treacherous image of him drinking from her flashes through her mind. Klaus chuckles against her skin, loops one leg over his shoulder "Later, love. Important things first."

Before she can ask him what he means, or how he read her secret thoughts, his breath ghosts over her core, bringing the sensitive folds of skin to life. Oh.

He kisses her there as thoroughly, as expertly, and as slowly as he kissed her mouth. Tongue and lips sucking on her wet flesh, flicking the tight bundle of nerves and making her cry out, her knuckles whitening on the table edge. She didn't think it would be so easy, that her body would sing for him this way, that it would sing for anyone like this. Liquid heat melts through her and his tongue works faster, deeper, feasting on her. Bonnie grabs his blond hair and doesn't even mind his low laugh because her senses are spiralling every which way and all she can think is More and all she can say is Yes and when he slides a finger inside her, matching the rhythm of his tongue just before his thumb caresses the hyper-sensitive nub, sensation builds and splits her light a flash of lightning, making her pitch forward nearly falling off the table if his hands didn't steady her, riding the wave of ecstasy against his mouth, higher and deeper than she ever imagined possible.

He breathes one last kiss upon her soaked and trembling folds before rising. Her dazed eyes catch the relish with which he licks his lips clean, savoring each drop of her. Klaus leans forward, palms resting on either side of her. She can feel him hard against her thigh.

"Am I invited now?"

Bonnie catches her breath, "I will take your request under consideration."

He swears and sweeps her off the table, carrying her over to the bed. She laughs when her back meets the plush furs, pleased to have made him break his own rules.

Klaus lowers himself over her, runs one hand up her side, pulling the linen of her shift up, "Consider it under me, then."

Her shift comes off and she's naked before him. His intense scrutiny makes her blush and avert her eyes. No one ever looked at her like he does.

He takes her chin, forces her to meet his gaze, "Bonnie, Bonnie, Bonnie. Always so demure. You shy away like a maiden when you are a queen," he traces a nipple with his fingertip, watches it harden. Kneeling, he removes his doublet, then the white shirt, revealing a smooth, sculpted chest. His trousers are next, and her eyes rivet on the turgid evidence of his desire. Desire for her. The thought sends a rush of hot liquid to her womb and she's wet all over again.

Klaus kisses her all over, sucking on her breasts until she is trembling. From his death grip on her hips she knows his restraint is close to breaking.

He slides a hand under her buttocks and lifts her so his organ is pressed against her entrance.

His chest heaves, "Are you afraid?"

"Are you going to talk all night?" she angles her hips.

She can see the glint of his canines when he grins. He penetrates her in a single, swift stroke and she gives a small cry. It has been so long. Klaus works her slowly, with a maddening, sensual pace. She locks her ankles around his back and runs magic-coated fingernails up his back, knowing they burn.

His head jerks and for a moment he looks surprised. She is about to remove her nails when he kisses her, a sharp, unapologetic kiss that draws blood from her mouth, blood that he licks greedily before whispering, "Do it again, love."

She gives as good as she gets, leaving red trails up his chest that vanish in seconds, making him throw back his head and revel in her burning touch. His fangs are descended and he makes no effort to hide it. Bonnie feels a dangerous thrill, coaxing out the beast, playing with fire.

She arches her neck and pulls him in, "I know you want to."

Before she can think, he slides out of her and flips her on her stomach. Lifting his hips he buries himself inside her again, and the angle makes her groan, riding that exquisite line between pleasure and pain. Wrapping an arm around her middle he pulls her up so she's pressed into his chest. He moves her damp hair aside and she tilts her neck, inviting.

Fangs graze her skin, "You asked for this, love, " then sink into the vein. She cries out and bucks against him. When he sucks it feels like a thousand tendrils of sensation are curling through every vein, every pore. His thrusts are becoming irregular, brutal in their frenzied rhythm. With his other hand he strokes her, building her up to another climax while his mouth sucks at her neck like she's the first and last taste of blood he will ever have.

Her pleasure crashes over her in shuddering waves, and his soon follows. They tumble together onto the bed, his back arched over hers as he gives one final thrust. She is dizzy from the raw sensation and the loss of blood.

Klaus gathers her up, lays her damp body against his and opens a vein for her. Once she has taken what she needs, Bonnie wipes her mouth.

A sudden laugh bursts from her luxurious exhaustion. She feels as though every color is new, painted just for her.

He grasps her hand, licks the inside of her wrist and kisses the pulse, "I have waited for you for so long."

The next while they are in the bath together, her head pillowed on his chest while he drinks the expensive wine he is so fond of, she tells him of the vampire who killed her mother.

"Find him for me."

His name is Louis and he's an easy hunt for Klaus' hybrids. They bring him to the castle, snarling and spitting like a rabid dog.

Down in the dungeons she has him chained with spelled irons coated in vervain. Each struggle slices into his skin.

Klaus watches as she brings him to his knees in screaming agony, popping every vessel in his head with slow and exquisite delight.

He caresses her waist, his voice is low, dark with lust "Shall I finish him for you, love?"

"No, death is too merciful," and she whispers her plan.

Palms on either side Louis' head, she whispers the incantation. With each word she pictures her mother's face, standing alive and tall against a sky of fire.

She steps back, watches the spell take effect as the miserable creature tries to snap and bite at the illusionary goblet of blood floating just above his head. The more he strains, the more the chains cut into his flesh, and the hungrier and more desperate he becomes.

Even Klaus looks impressed.

As soon as they are in their chambers, he pushes her up against the wall, fumbling with her gown until finally he rips the silken fabric. Bonnie drinks the pleasure of his body as hungrily as he feasts on her neck. Ecstasy shatters them both.

Lying in bed one morning, sated and damp from their exertions, he asks her if she plans on confronting her friends, and the Salvatore brothers. She muses on this.

"No, let my shadow hang over them, let them hear my name and fear. Let them always wonder."

"And in the meantime?"

Bonnie already knows. Pushing his shoulders down, she mounts him, begins a slow, undulating ride, "I want to go somewhere, far away. Some place where pomegranates grow on trees."

"Mmm," his hand travels up her torso, squeezes a breast while he lifts his hips into her, "And what then, love?"

She traces a burning line down his chest, watches his eyes darken, "Convince me."

The dream is always the same.

She searches for her mother in the tangled, burning forest, across the blowing grass.

Her mother's face flickers in the fire.

She raises flames to the sky.