Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
❧ it turns out that everything meant nothing ❧
≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫
Amalie knew Mason Lockwood was in trouble the moment she saw Damon drag his unconscious body into the truck. It wasn't hard to piece together what had happened. Mason had tried to get both Damon and Stefan killed the day before, and though his plan had failed, Damon wasn't exactly known for his mercy.
Her instincts told her to stay out of it. Damon and Mason's little feud was insignificant in the grand scheme of things. But Katherine? She would lose her mind if something happened to Mason. And if Katherine found out Amalie could've stopped it and didn't, well, there'd be hell to pay.
As Amalie slipped into the Salvatore house, the air inside felt thick and oppressive, like the house itself was holding its breath. Her footsteps echoed softly down the hallway. She could already feel the weight of the impending confrontation, the crackling tension in the air. There was something bitter in the wind, the unmistakable scent of burning metal.
When she stepped into the parlor, the scene before her made her jaw clench. Mason was chained to a chair in the middle of the room, his wrists bound tightly with thick chains. Sweat was pouring down his face, his eyes squeezed shut in pain. Damon stood over him, poker in hand, its top glowing an angry red from the fire.
Amalie's eyes flicked to the fire poker, watching the flicker of flames in Damon's cold eyes. This wasn't about justice. This wasn't even about revenge anymore. It was about Damon's need to prove dominance—to remind everyone that he was the top predator.
She sighed, stepping into the room. Damn it, Damon. Always so predictable.
"Damon," she said, making her presence known, her voice low and commanding. Damon paused, the poker mere inches from Mason's chest. The werewolf's labored breathing filled the silence.
Damon turned slowly, irritation flashing across his face as he saw her standing there. "What are you doing here, Amalie?" His tone was sharp, more a demand than a question.
She ignored his hostility, stepping further into the room. "Stopping you from doing something stupid," she said evenly, her eyes flicking toward Mason. His eyes were open now, wide with pain and fear. His loyalty to Katherine was questionable at best, but that didn't mean he deserved to die over a petty feud. "Katherine will lose it if you kill him," she warned.
