"I'm sorry..."

"You know," Dorian murmured, as he tightly fastened the chain cuffs around Hope's wrists, "I will admit. I find your fight to be very…refreshing. Though it can be a nuisance."

Hope said nothing and Dorian continued as if he were the most riveting conversationalist who ever existed.

"Most come in here and perhaps some of them are a bit spritely, but usually after the first fight, most of them are ready to lie down. Do whatever we ask. They'd rather become a lap dog than be forced into another fight."

"You make them fight anyway" Hope spat at him.

Dorian gave a simple shrug "Yes, but there's always that hope they hold onto. That very slight glimmer of possibility that we'll change our mind if they're obedient. Of course, a whipped dog might whimper, but it still has fierce teeth. I can't risk letting them get comfortable enough for them to…"

"Realize they're stronger than you?" Hope finished for him "For them to rise up and realize you are nothing more than a scared little boy who bit off more than he can chew."

The sting was sharp against Hope's cheek, she hadn't even seen the slap coming, but she held her head up. Locking eyes with Dorian.

"Do what you want with me. I couldn't care less, because I know…and you know how this will end. Even if I don't make it out of here, neither will you. You'll either die by my hand or by my family's."

Hope suddenly grinned as she saw a slight shimmer of doubt behind his eyes.

"And you know that, don't you?" she grinned wider, despite her throbbing cheek which was now turning a deep red. "You know you won't live much longer. There is no escape from my family once they're on your trail. Even if you managed to escape, they'd hunt you. A decade - a century. However long it might take. You'd live in constant fear until the inevitable end."

Dorian walked away, toward the table of sharp instruments. His chest was heaving, breathing faster as he seemed to examine the torture devices.

"You can't even admit you made a mistake." Hope watched his every move, calculating it all. "You took Hope Mikaelson seeing dollar signs but didn't see the blood trail you've been leaving behind all this time. Now you're scared and desperate. You know if you let me live I'll kill you. You know if you kill me, my family will kill you. How does it feel, Dorian? How does it feel to know you've already lost?"

The knife she didn't see him pick up sliced through the space between them, embedding deeply into Hope's stomach. It forced out all the air Hope had in her body. Looking down, she stared at the handle of the large surgical knife protruding from her abdomen. Pain erupted through her, tingling down her spine and making her toes hurt. She pinched her eyes shut, holding in her cry of agonized pain. Darkness threatened to cloud her vision as blood oozed around the wound.

Meeting his murderously angry gaze again, she stared at him. She wanted her own anger to grow, but it was instead replaced with a healthy dose of fear. Hope had no magic to defend herself. She was hung from a dirty cave wall, her toes barely scraping the floor below her. He had every advantage possible and she knew that. They both did.

She wanted to be angry, wanted to be simmering with rage, but all she could feel from the top of her head to the soles of her feet was pure terror.

"Ah!" She cried out as something buzzed in her mouth, biting at her like a spark of flame. The sound of something beeped inside her ear…no, inside her mouth. It was a high-pitched sound, so strong it made the room spin for a moment.

Dorian was suddenly in front of her, grabbing her by the chin with one hand and wrenching her jaw open with the other. She jerked, trying to get free of his touch, but it was too late. He examined the inside of her mouth and smiled cruelly.

"What have we here?" he asked, tilting his head.

She already knew what he would find.

It was the tracking device she'd installed when first kidnapped. They'd found it, her family had found it and activated it. Sure, now Dorian knew they could track her, but at least they had the location she was at the given time. Even if he ran away with her right away, they'd have more scents and clues to follow. They would find her, eventually. She just had to hold on.

"Can't have this can we?" He let her go, leaving her jaw sore as he went back to the table, snatching a wicked-looking tool from the reflective top. It was curved at the end with two pinchers like a pair of pliers and handles like scissors.

Hope's stomach dropped as he walked her way with the tool. A cold sweat formed across the back of her neck as he grabbed her chin again, but this time she quickly locked her jaw - tight. They knew her location now, that was certain, but the very thought of what he was about to do sent her stomach into a twisted mess.

"Now, now…this will only hurt a lot…" he said, forcing her mouth open with the use of another metal tool, jamming the square cube in the back of her jaw. Forcing her mouth to stay open while he reached in with the hooked tool and took hold of the tooth she'd jammed the tracking device in with haste not forty-eight hours earlier.

Hope squirmed against the restraints, breathing heavily as the realization that he was completely serious about what he was about to do hit full force. Drool slid down the sides of her mouth as tears of fear pricked her eyes, but refused to let them fall in front of him.

He could have left the tooth and only taken the tracker, but he didn't.

Dorian yanked out the molar, letting it fly across the room. A small spray of blood followed suit.

Hope cried out as the gaping hole in her mouth drained blood down the back of her throat. A few tears managed to sneak down her cheeks as he lifted her chin again, examining her already bruising jaw.

She waited for him to remove the metal block from her jaw, but he didn't.

"Hm…" he murmured "How does it feel to be so helpless, Hope? How does it feel knowing that no matter what fate I face, you'll have lost no matter what? I might be six feet under, but you…you'll be forced to live with the truth." His fingers traced the exposed line of sensitive skin just above her jean line - making her jerk in response.

Chuckling darkly in the back of his throat, Dorian walked across the dirty cave floor and stepped on the tracking device, a slight electric sizzle under his boot catching her ears.

"When I speak of the truth…I mean that I was wrong before," he murmured, "When I said you're a princess without a crown. You're not even that." His smirk stretched into a wild grin as he looked over at her. "You are, quite simply, my dear. Nothing. You are nothing. You always have been and you always will be."

Hope couldn't respond. Even if she didn't have a blockage in her mouth, she had nothing to say. She knew she wasn't nothing, or at least…that's what she wanted to tell herself. That's what she wanted to hear. From her mother, her father…from her aunts and uncles. To hear them say just once more how special and important she was. How strong and dangerously beautiful she was.

She wanted to hear Derek whisper in her ear just one more time that she was her own alpha.

That no prison bars of any kind could ensnare her.

That's what Hope wanted, but it was something she couldn't have. And right here at that moment, she felt like the nothing Dorian described. For the first time in her life, Hope was completely…and utterly helpless.

No magic.

No strength.

Nothing.

But what was magic without a vessel to hold it?

What was strength without a body to wield it?

Hope was more than her magic; she was more than her strength. More than beauty and intelligence. She was so much more than the instincts that tried to control her.

'I am so much more.'

She was…Hope. Her family named her in honor of their family's strength during difficult times, because even when the world seems to be against you there is always one thing you can hold onto. One thing that will never let you down.

Hope.

"I'm sorry." Hope finally managed to say as blood dribbled from her lips, the blockage falling with gravity after she stretched her jaw wider, ignoring the horrible pain it brought. It fell to the floor with an echoing clink.

Dorian turned to stare at her, bewilderment behind his crazed eyes. He'd been close to the door, ready to leave, but the shock in his eyes was most satisfying.

"You're sorry?" He asked, a spiteful bite in the back of his throat. "For what?" He spat.

Hope held his gaze and smiled "I'm sorry you chose fear and brutality over hope and love, because when this all ends," she paused, smiling crookedly, "There will be no one to bury your decapitated body."

The next action of his shouldn't have surprised her, but she couldn't help but gag wildly as he force-fed her a concoction of wolfsbane and vervain. Every swallow felt like acid going down her esophagus, she was almost positive if it didn't end soon there'd be a sizzled hole in her throat. Luckily she didn't have to find out.

She passed out after the second bottle was emptied.