How Old Is Hope Mikaelson Novels & Stories

June yelled, her voice fraying at the edges. In the middle of it all stood her daughter, but not the infant from a few hours ago. No, this girl was a teenager now—tall, slim, hair aglow like starlight, watching the world fall apart without so much as a flinch. She gripped the golden key above her head, a beam of silver light shooting straight into the ship’s engine. "I am fixing it, Mother," Hope said, and the words were wrong—too old, too deep, as if spoken by something ancient and tired. "Earth is a broken oven. It burns people just to keep the lights on. I will give them a sun that never dies."

Cullen moved his hand to take Ivory’s. “I see,” Hope sighed. “I know what it is like to be on the opposite side. I will welcome her.” Hope had a distant look. While she never killed any Weres or Vampires, she knew they were being hunted and investigated by Mangadoom. Although she worked for the company for five years, she was only part of a First Team for just under a year, and only worked as a paramedic on most missions. It still didn’t ease her conscience. Hope didn't know if she could ever come to terms. She told herself that she was hypnotized and it helped, slightly. Valic sensing his mate's distress, hugged her close in his arms, flooding Hope with his scent. “It will work out

"Mommy!" Hope's voice cut through the murmur of the crowd, and I turned to find her pushing through a cluster of legs, Adrian trailing behind with the long-suffering expression of a man who had learned that his daughter's will was not to be trifled with. She was six now, all elbows and opinions and dark hair that refused to stay braided, her face smeared with what appeared to be chocolate from the reception table. "I found the cookies," she announced, as if this were a scientific discovery of profound importance. "They're better than the ones Madam Lin makes. Don't tell her I said that."

When she asked why he didn't hate her like the rest of the shifters, he took his time explaining to her that it was a choice. You could choose to hate someone because everyone else was doing it, or choose to be different and try to know that person more. His response added to the respect she already had for him. Then there was Hope, sweet, kind Hope who smelled like warm, baked bread. Both of them clicked instantly, even though Hope was five years older. She got to asking a few questions and realized Dylan was thirty-two. This came as a surprise because she used to think werewolves were hundreds of years old.

With Laís's help and my future mother-in-law Alessa, I'm sure I'll be giving my grandfather the satisfaction of seeing me beside Hope. As sleep approaches, I feel the memories of that afternoon creeping into my dreams. My mother was happy to know that the next afternoon would finally be the day we would seal our engagement. We would keep the information hidden from the media; after all, Hope de Luca is only sixteen years old, even though she's finishing high school, she's still underage, and there's no need to expose her. At least that's the agreement between our parents! But I can't see anything in this girl that would make me develop any emotional bond with her. After all, she's just a gir

“Really?” “Yes,” she giggled. “I want him to be my daddy!” I was completely rendered speechless. I remembered Noah when he asked me to be his mother. I just hope it will be just as simple as that. I caressed Hope’s hair. She’s four, but she thinks more mature than her age. I know she would understand just like how she understood when I told her we couldn’t be with his daddy for now. “Do you wanna know a secret?” She asked, smiling. “I love the scary man.”

she says. "I know about the outline of it," Hope says. "I'm not going to pretend otherwise." She holds her mother's gaze evenly. "I've been reading everything in the family archive since I was fourteen. The board minutes. The old press coverage. The court records from Richard's trial." She pauses. "I know what happened. The shape of it." Aria looks at her daughter. Sixteen. Reading the family archive since fourteen. Finding threads everywhere she looks. "What do you think?" Aria says. Genuinely asking.

Could I really trust her, or is she just a part of Barry's plan? “I didn't even ask your name, so what is it? How long have you been in that cage?” “My name is Hope. I've been in this cage for almost a year now. Ever since I rejected him and told him I wouldn't be a part of his lycan war, he pushed me into this thing and brought me to this room, and here I am, stuck in this thing. Who were you talking to? I woke up and heard you talking to someone, but I didn't hear anyone else in this room.”