The Hybrid's Ex

Chapter 22

Third Person’s POV:

At the Salvatore-Morningstar home, Sofia stood in front of her closet, biting her lip in frustration.

"What am I going to wear?" she muttered, pouting at the lack of options that seemed suitable for the Mikaelson dinner tonight.

Damon entered the room quietly, a teasing grin on his face.

Wrapping his arms around his wife from behind, he kissed her temple.

"Don’t pout, otherwise we’ll never make it out of the house," he said, his voice full of affection.

"Shut up, Damon," Sofia replied, her frustration still evident as she turned to face him.

"I have a real crisis on my hands at the moment."

Amused by her dramatics, Damon chuckled. "And what exactly is this crisis, darling?" he asked, his tone playful yet loving.

Sofia sighed dramatically, her lips still in a pout. "I don’t have anything good enough to wear to the dinner tonight," she confessed.

Damon couldn't help but laugh again at her words.

He leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. "How about you wear one of my shirts? You always look amazing in them," he suggested, a mischievous glint appearing in his eyes.

Sofia narrowed her gaze at him, instantly picking up on his intentions.

"And what exactly do you have in mind, Mr. Salvatore?" she asked, her voice teasing as she tried to read his playful smirk.

"Nothing at all, Mrs. Salvatore," Damon replied innocently, but the sparkle in his eyes gave away the fact that his thoughts were far from innocent.

Sofia rolled her eyes playfully, but there was warmth in her smile as she grabbed one of Damon’s black shirts and headed to the bathroom to change.

Before closing the door behind her, she leaned up and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, leaving Damon standing there, completely smitten by her.

A few moments later, Sofia reappeared, wearing Damon’s black shirt. The fabric hung loosely on her, but somehow, it only enhanced her natural beauty.

As she walked into the room, Damon froze, his mouth slightly open, awe struck by how effortlessly stunning she looked.

"What are you staring at?" Sofia asked with a playful grin.

"At my beautiful wife," Damon replied, moving toward her with that familiar look of adoration in his eyes.

He wrapped his arms around her again, pulling her close.

He gazed into her eyes, his voice softening with sincerity. "How did someone like me get so lucky to have you?"

Sofia’s smile faltered for a second, replaced by something deeper, more vulnerable.

She placed a hand gently on his cheek. "You’re not the lucky one, Damon. I am," she whispered, her voice filled with emotion. "I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t been there for me when I was at my lowest. You pulled me back from breaking."

Damon’s expression softened even further as he felt the depth of her gratitude and love.

He held her tightly, pressing his forehead to hers. "We saved each other, Sofia," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

For a long moment, they simply held each other, as if the world outside didn’t exist.

Their embrace was filled with a quiet but unshakable love, the kind of connection that could weather any storm.

It wasn’t just about romance—it was about survival, about being each other's lifeline when everything else seemed to fall apart.

They hugged like their lives depended on it, as if letting go would mean losing one another forever.

In that embrace, they found the strength to face whatever challenges lay ahead, knowing that as long as they had each other, they could get through anything.

••••••••••••••

Outside the grand Mikaelson Mansion, the air was thick with anticipation.

The towering, dark exterior of the mansion seemed to loom over the Morningstar-Salvatore family as they approached the front door.

Sofia could feel the tension radiating from her children, each of them handling the upcoming dinner in their own way.

"Mom, do we have to go in?" Angela asked, her voice filled with reluctance as she glanced up at the imposing structure.

Sofia sighed, offering her daughter a reassuring smile. "Yes, sweetheart, we do. It’s just dinner," she said, though she knew this dinner was far from ordinary.

Sofia then turned to Issy, who was still visibly upset from the earlier encounter with Hope. "And Issy, please don’t be mad at Hope. She didn’t know about the runes," Sofia said gently, hoping her daughter could let the grudge go for the evening.

Issy let out an exaggerated sigh, rolling her eyes in annoyance. "Okay, fine, Mom," she muttered, though her tone still carried the weight of her frustration.

Lizzie, always one for dramatic solutions, chimed in with a mischievous grin. "Mom, can we at least snap their necks if they try something?"

Sofia chuckled at her daughter’s dark humor.

"It depends on the situation we’re in," she replied with a smirk, not entirely dismissing the idea but knowing that violence wouldn’t solve tonight's issues.

As they reached the doorstep of the Mikaelson Mansion, the family paused for a moment.

The mansion loomed large and ominous before them, and everyone could feel the tension.

Tonight wouldn’t be just a simple family dinner—it never was with the Mikaelsons.

"Are you all ready?" Sofia asked, turning to her children.

She met each of their eyes in turn, searching for signs of readiness—or at least, determination.

"Yep," they all responded in unison, though there was a mix of enthusiasm and reluctance in their voices.

Taking a deep breath, Sofia squared her shoulders and raised her hand to knock.

"Here goes nothing," she muttered under her breath before letting her knuckles rap against the heavy wooden door.

The sound echoed ominously through the quiet night, and for a moment, everything seemed to stand still.

Whatever was waiting for them on the other side of that door, Sofia knew they’d face it together.