I was born into a name people feared to say too loudly. Mikaelson. In the wizarding world, it meant power, old magic, influence woven so deep into history that even the Ministry tread carefully. My father, **Klaus Mikaelson**, was one of the most feared and important wizards alive. Ruthless when crossed. Brilliant always. And yet—when it came to me—I was his weakness. His only daughter. His precious little girl.