I didn't need to look behind me to know he was there. I could feel Stefan's presence like an ominous shadow, his footsteps crunching on the gravel as he drew closer. He had a way of moving silently, but tonight, the air seemed to hum with the tension between us, his every step echoing in my mind.
I could already feel the anger boiling inside me, the urge to lash out. It had been building since I'd first caught sight of him again. He was always like that, standing on his high horse, pretending to be the hero while I did the dirty work. Always judging me, like I didn't know what I was doing, like I wasn't perfectly capable of handling things myself.
"You didn't even try to get out of town, did you, Damon?" Stefan's voice cut through the silence, sharp and dripping with disdain. He had that damn look on his face, the one he always wore when he was trying to put me in my place, like he had the moral high ground. "You always have to make things worse, don't you?"
I turned to face him, my eyes narrowing as I assessed the situation. Stefan, the self-righteous saint, standing there like he held all the answers. The same look he wore every time he thought he knew better than me.
"What's wrong, Stefan?" I sneered, tilting my head slightly. "Afraid to face the truth?"
Stefan's eyes flashed with anger. "Truth? You mean your obsession with Amara? That's what this is about, isn't it? You're too wrapped up in some stupid prophecy to even think straight."
I stepped forward, closing the distance between us, my voice low and menacing. "You have no idea what's going on, do you? All you ever do is act like you know better. Like you're some sort of savior when you're just as lost as the rest of us."
He clenched his fists, but his gaze was steady, like he was trying to reason with me. But I could see the flicker of doubt in his eyes, the fear that he always hid behind that mask of superiority. "You think I'm the one who's lost? Look at you, Damon. You've completely lost your mind. You're willing to do anything to make this prophecy come true. Even if it destroys you, destroys her. And for what? Some insane idea of destiny?"
"Destiny?" I growled. "You really think this is some kind of fate I'm following? No, Stefan, it's not fate. It's power. And I'm not letting you, or anyone else, stand in my way."
Stefan took a step forward, his voice growing colder. "You're not going to drag Amara into this and definitely not Elena either. You're obsessed, Damon. You need to let it go."
I laughed darkly, the sound twisted and mocking. "Let it go? You think I can just walk away from it? She's mine, Stefan. I don't care what you say or what you think. I'm going to make this happen, and you're going to watch. You're always the same, aren't you? You're so afraid of becoming what you really are, you'll do anything to push me away, to push everyone away. Amara may be the end goal, but Elena will be the key whether alive or not."
I could see his jaw clench. I could feel the rage rising within him, the need to strike back. But it was more than that—there was something else there, something deeper. I saw the flash of emotion in his eyes, the way he flinched at the mention of Elena.
"Don't bring her into this," Stefan spat, his voice tight with fury.
"Oh, I'll bring her into this, alright," I snarled. "The way you brought her into it. That's right, Stefan. I know why you're really back here. Don't try to act like you're some noble knight on a quest to save everyone. You came back because she looks just like Katherine."
I could see the immediate hit in Stefan's eyes, the way he stiffened at my words. I'd struck a nerve. The mask he'd always worn, the one he'd used to hide his obsession with Katherine, cracked just for a second. It was enough for me to see it—the guilt, the shame, the need that he'd never been able to escape.
I took a step closer, my breath hot on his neck, and I whispered, "You're obsessed with her, Stefan. I know it. You came back because Elena's face reminds you of the one you couldn't save. Katherine. You think you're punishing yourself, but all you're doing is wasting time, fighting a battle you lost a hundred years ago. You'll never save her. You'll never save anyone. Because you couldn't even save yourself."
His eyes were burning now, the conflict between us reaching its peak. Stefan took a deep breath, his fists clenched tightly by his sides. I could almost feel the struggle in him—the need to be the hero, to make the right choice, to do what he thought was best for everyone. But there was a darkness in him too, one I could see all too clearly.
"You don't know anything about saving people," Stefan growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You've never cared about anyone but yourself. You think this obsession with Amara is some kind of redemption for your past mistakes? You're wrong, Damon. And I'm going to make sure you realize that before it's too late."
I laughed again, the sound bitter and full of venom. "You really think you can stop me, Stefan? You think you can just show up and play the hero and somehow make this all go away? No. It's too late for that. The moment I drank her blood, the moment we connected… everything changed. I'm not walking away from it. And neither are you."
I saw Stefan's eyes flash with a mix of anger and something else—something that told me he was teetering on the edge, that he was willing to cross a line he'd spent years trying to avoid. But he was still holding back, still trying to find some shred of decency in a world that had already taken that from him.
"You think this is what you want?" Stefan asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "You think you can control this? You're playing with fire, Damon. And I'm going to put it out."
Without another word, Stefan lunged at me, his hand gripping my collar, his anger almost palpable in the air between us. I fought back, shoving him off me, sending him crashing into a nearby wall. The force of the impact rattled the house, the old wood groaning under the strain. We both stood there, breathing heavily, our eyes locked in a battle of wills.
But I wasn't backing down. I couldn't. Not now. Not when everything I'd been chasing was so close, so within reach.
"You're not going to stop me, Stefan," I said, my voice low, full of warning. "You never could."
And with that, I walked away. I didn't need to say anything else. The truth was in my eyes, in my every move. And as long as I had Amara in my sights, no one—not Stefan, not anyone—was going to take that from me.