He just stared at from the floor, still curled slightly forward with both hands guarding his very injured pride.
He was so still that even the air felt like it was holding its breath. The silence coming from him felt heavier than anything he could have said, and the weight of it pressed down on my chest until I began to wonder if I had broken more than just his pride.
Damon never stayed silent unless he was genuinely upset, and the twist in my stomach grew tighter with every second that passed without a word from him.
I lowered myself beside him slowly, careful not to touch him too quickly because I knew how ridiculous that kick had been. I reached out and placed my hand gently on his arm even though he did not look ready to be touched.
"Damon, I am sorry," I whispered, leaning into him because the worry crawling under my skin was getting unbearable. "I did not an to ruin your mont, and I did not an to kick you that hard. Everything ca out wrong and I did not think before acting."
He still did not speak, but I saw the way his shoulders stiffened and relaxed again, like he was fighting between staying mad and forgiving too easily.
I wrapped my arms around him from behind, resting my cheek lightly against his back. "I am really sorry," I said again, softer this ti, because I needed him to hear it. "I should not have jumped to conclusions and I should not have thrown the ring. I am just jealous, I guess."
’Why jealous of all words...’
The mont that word left my lips, he exhaled quietly. I felt it beneath my palms, a small release of tension that told he heard what mattered.
Before I could move or say anything else, he grabbed my wrist and tugged gently into his lap, settling there in a way that felt both possessive and frustrated. He was not rough, but his grip held a firmness that reminded that he was still annoyed.
I looked up at him quietly. "Damon?"
He lifted my chin with one hand, guiding my gaze to et his. His eyes were irritated, but there was a warm softness underneath, the kind that always made my throat tighten because he cared even when he pretended he did not.
It felt like he was trying to decide whether to scold rcilessly or kiss so deeply that I would forget why we were even arguing.
"You ruined everything," he finally murmured in a low voice that sent a nervous shiver down my spine. It was the calm kind of anger that would make everyone behave.
"I know," I said quickly with a nod. "I know I ruined it, and I really did not an to, and I am really, really sorry."
He still did not smile, which only made my stomach sink further because Damon without a smirk felt wrong on so many levels. His thumb brushed my cheek gently, and although he was trying to hold onto his irritation, his touch betrayed him. His fingers lingered on my skin longer than necessary, warm and familiar.
I leaned closer and wrapped my arms around his neck. "Please do not stay mad," I whispered, pressing my forehead softly against his. "Who wouldn’t be mad, when you said you loved other won."
The truth left my mouth before I could stop it.
Damon let out another long, tired breath and finally slid his arms around my waist, pulling into him like he had accepted defeat. His grip settled into sothing warm and steady, as if he had given up trying to stay angry.
"You always make things harder," he murmured as his lips brushed my temple. "Always."
"Not always," I whispered against his neck, I could feel his glare boring through my skull.
"And you ruined my surprise."
"I know."
"And you injured ."
"That one was not intentional... I swear."
He gave a blank stare, the kind that made want to sink into the floor, but then he kissed . The kiss wasn’t soft, it was deep and firm and filled with frustration, like he was tired of arguing and tired of pretending he did not want to pull straight into him. His hand slid to my waist, lifting slightly to pull closer, shifting until I straddled him and could feel the warmth of his breath against my lips.
One kiss turned into long and countless sections, and the tension between us lted into sothing warr, and familiar. Before I knew it, he lifted up with a single pull, earning a yelp from , and then he tossed on the bed.
He let out a low growl. My arms wrapped around him tighter as he settled beneath him, his body pressing down over mine in a way that made the world fall quiet around us.
"Thank goodness, Vitamin D is still working." Layla said with a sigh of relief.
......
(Third POV)
anwhile, Alaric woke to the cold sting of tal biting harshly into his wrists. A dull ache traveled across his arms as he lifted his head and realized he was chained to a wall inside a dim, unfamiliar room. His temples throbbed, and the fog in his head made it difficult to piece anything together. He blinked a few tis, forcing himself to rember what happened before everything went dark.
The last thing he saw was Seraphina weak and injured, her blood warm staining her clothes, and another witch stepping forward to carry inside the castle before he lost consciousness in the witches’ realm.
He looked around the room slowly, confused by how strangely familiar it felt. He could not tell whether he had been here before or if the faint scent of Seraphina lingering in the air was causing the illusion. His jaw tightened as frustration built in his chest.
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