Outside, he could tell that the clouds were rolling in unnaturally fast. Elijah tried to outrace them, plunging between the trees at breakneck speed. But the first drops of rain struck his back just as he saw the werewolves around his house.

Elijah gritted his teeth, remembering his last fight with these same wolves and the seemingly endless pain that had followed. But their backs were turned to him now, giving him the advantage of surprise, and they were trapped in their human forms. He threw himself on the nearest werewolf, tearing his throat out before the body could hit the ground.

They turned and howled, rushing toward him in an indistinct, snarling mass of brandished torches and yellow eyes. Elijah was a blur, breaking limbs, snapping necks, and avoiding teeth and fire alike. They could not hope to kill him, but they could slow him down, and he couldn’t allow that.

Without the levelheaded influence of Vivianne, her mother, or her aunt, the witches would make good on their threat to level the city. If their house could not survive the hurricane, he wanted to stop the werewolves before they were completely vulnerable again.

He snapped and hacked his way toward the small porch, unable to guess how many werewolves he’d maimed or killed. He did register Louis’s broad shoulders and meaty lips at one point, and paused long enough to snap his burly neck with his bare hands. The Navarros had caused him more than enough trouble, and their clan should feel the price of that. Elijah had done his best for years to be understanding and accommodating, but if they could not appreciate his efforts they could start losing sons.

He noticed Armand near the back of the pack, shouting with the rest, but keeping a safe distance from the actual fighting. He would have his turn, but not now. Instead Elijah spun, his fist crashing into a redhead’s jaw and breaking a young woman’s silk-covered thigh with a vicious kick. She screamed and fell, and Elijah stepped over her writhing body and onto the porch.

Another howl went up when the werewolves realized they could not reach him anymore, and Elijah smirked. However long it lasted, Ysabelle’s spell was a work of art. Then an arm shot out from the front door and dragged him inside, and he found himself staring into his brother’s blazing eyes. Their blue-green fire, along with the jutting set of his jaw, showed that Klaus was livid. Elijah was supposed to be the one who was angry at Klaus, but his brother had a knack for rewriting history. Klaus always liked to see things his own way.

- The Originals: The Rise, Chapter 32