The door slammed shut behind me as I walked into the dimly lit room, the faint smell of old books and the ever-present musk of my brother's guilt hanging in the air. I didn't even acknowledge the weight of his gaze on me; I couldn't afford distractions. Not now.
I had been relentless, pouring over every scrap of information I could find—journals, records, anything that could shed light on this thing with Amara. The truth, I called it now, no longer a theory, but a fact that pulsed under my skin. And I would see it through to the end, no matter what it took. I'd spent too long buried in the darkness of unknowns. Now, there was a flicker of light, and I couldn't—wouldn't—let it fade.
"You found something." Stefan's voice cut through the silence, his words more a statement than a question. He knew me too well, but this time, it was irrelevant. "What is it?"
I didn't spare him a glance, moving to the center of the room, feeling the weight of the information I'd uncovered pressing down on me, making my mind buzz.
"We need to be married," I said, my voice cold, precise. "And we need a witch. And a doppelgänger."
The words hung in the air, heavy, but Stefan's expression barely flickered. I could see his calculating gaze, the way he was weighing the implications, but he didn't get it. He wouldn't get it.
"Damon, listen to yourself—" Stefan began, but I cut him off, my temper flaring.
"I'm not interested in hearing how you think it should be. What I know, Stefan, is that this—whatever this is—is real. Amara and I, we're tied together by something that's beyond both of us. It's a damn curse, and I'm going to make sure it's fulfilled."
I felt the blood rush through me at the thought of her, the sweet, intoxicating burn of her essence. It was the only thing that made sense anymore. The only thing that filled the empty spaces inside me.
Stefan took a step forward, his brows furrowing. "A curse? Damon, this isn't just about fulfilling some damn prophecy. This is about you losing yourself—"
I whipped around to face him, cutting him off with a harsh laugh. "Lose myself? Don't you get it, Stefan? I am lost. And the only way out of it is through her. She is the only thing that makes sense now. She's like… a drug to me, something I can't get enough of. I can't stop myself, and I don't want to."
I didn't even recognize the obsession creeping into my voice, but it was there. The need, the pull—it was visceral, gnawing at me from the inside out. She'd left me—she'd left me—but she couldn't escape. Not really. She was bound to me, even if she didn't know it yet. And once I found her again, once I had her… everything would fall into place.
Stefan took a long breath, his jaw tight with something akin to concern. "You're saying this bond is something you can't control?"
I turned my back to him, my eyes darkened with a purpose I couldn't fully grasp. "I don't want to control it. I want it. I need it. And I'll do whatever it takes to make sure this happens."
I walked over to the fireplace, watching the fire crackle, its warm glow casting shadows on the walls. I couldn't stop the way my thoughts turned to Amara. I needed her, needed to feel the heat of her blood, the way she smelled, the way she was—so close, yet so far away. She was everything I had been missing, and I wouldn't stop until I had her fully within my grasp.
"Damon…" Stefan's voice was quieter now, but I didn't want to hear the words he was about to speak. "If you keep going down this path, you won't be able to come back from it. You're talking about binding her to you, but I know how you are. And this… this isn't love, Damon. It's obsession. And it'll destroy you both."
I turned, my gaze locking on his, and I couldn't help the smirk that tugged at my lips. "You're one to talk, Stefan. You've been the picture of restraint, haven't you? Always the good brother, always thinking you know what's best for me, for her. But you don't. I know what's best for me, for us. And if anyone can stop this, it's going to be me."
Stefan was silent for a moment, and in that silence, I could feel the tension crackling between us. His disappointment, his worry—it didn't matter. Nothing mattered but her. Nothing but us.
I didn't need him to understand. I didn't need anyone to understand.
"I know you don't get it, Stefan. But I'm not asking for your approval. I'm telling you: Amara and I are meant to be, and I'm going to prove it. This—whatever it is—it's already started. And there's no going back now."
Before Stefan could respond, I turned and strode toward the door. I had to find her. And I would. No one could stop me. Not Stefan, not Elena, not anyone. They could try, but they would fail. Because Amara? She was mine.
And nothing was going to change that.