𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆: 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐲 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐋𝐢𝐞 (𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐈) - 𝐏𝐭. 𝟐 𝐛𝐲 𝐑𝐢𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚, 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭. 𝐄𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐦

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆...𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍

𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐀𝐘 portrayed by Shay Mitchell

...🌺...

𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻, 𝑀𝑌𝑆𝑇𝐼𝐶 𝐹𝐴𝐿𝐿𝑆

𝐒𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟗

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐬, 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐫.

My fingers traced the cool banister, the polished surface worn smooth from centuries of hands gripping it before mine. The air was thick—heavy with burning sage, old parchment, and something else. Something electric.

Magic.

It clung to the walls, seeped into the floorboards, whispered in the candlelight. No matter how much I tried to ignore it, Hastings Manor was alive, and it never let me forget that I didn't belong here.

Eyes followed me. They always did.

A cluster of girls stood near the archway leading to the grand hall, their voices hushed but not nearly quiet enough.

"She doesn't belong here."

"Not a real Hastings."

My jaw locked. I forced my stride to remain steady.

"Hey, freak."

Morana's voice scraped against the air like sandpaper dipped in acid. I stopped just shy of the sunroom, my steps locking in place as my fingers curled into a tight fist.

She drifted closer, arms folded, posture smug. That smirk she wore? It could cut glass. "This place isn't for you. My aunt should've left you where she found you—on the porch like the stray you are."

Something inside me snapped.

It didn't crack—it detonated.

The chandeliers above trembled, a shimmer of warning humming through the ceiling. Then—bulbs burst in quick succession, glass raining down like glittered shrapnel onto the polished marble.

Screams shot through the hallway. Girls stumbled back, ducking, skirts twisting around their legs as they fled.

I stayed rooted. Unmoved. Eyes locked on Morana, who now looked like she'd swallowed her tongue.

She said nothing.

Good.

I brushed a shard off my sleeve, as I turned my back to her.

Mom stood by the racks of dresses, arms crossed, lips pressed into a thin line. She didn't reprimand me. She never did when my magic lashed out like this. But the worry was there, flickering in the shadows of her gaze.

"Try this one," she said, holding up a gold dress, the fabric shimmering in the afternoon light.

I sighed, stepping behind the folding screen. The silk was cool against my skin as I slipped it on, adjusting the train so it wouldn't drag.

When I stepped onto the raised platform, the sunlight caught the gold, sending tiny reflections dancing across the walls.

I barely noticed.

My reflection stared back, mouth set in a frown so deep it felt carved into my skin.

Mom studied me for a long moment, her dark eyes unreadable. "I don't think that's right for your ascension."

Ascension.

The word sat heavy in my chest. My fingers curled at my sides, but I forced myself to nod. I couldn't tell her the truth—that the idea of unlocking all of my powers terrified me. That I already felt like I was unraveling at the seams. That if I took on more, I might not be able to hold myself together.

She let out a breath, looking relieved, and turned toward the clothing racks. "I have one more dress for you to try on," she said. "Then I have to head over to the Lockwoods'."

I sighed and stepped back behind the screen, stripping out of the gold dress before slipping on the other dress.

When I stepped back onto the platform, I froze.

The mirror reflected something otherworldly.

The dress was a pale, icy blue—so light it caught the light like liquid silver. Its sheer, off-the-shoulder sleeves glinted with gold thread, delicate embroidery twisting across the bodice and unfurling down the length of the skirt. A slit cut high along one side, revealing flashes of movement with every step, effortless and deliberate. The hem was edged in golden filigree, curling like smoke into intricate designs that seemed to shift if you looked too long.

I brushed my fingertips along the fabric. Soft. Weighted. Alive with something ancient.

It was beautiful.

"That's the one." Mom's voice was softer now. "It fits you like a glove. We won't even need to have it tailored."

I tore my gaze from the dress to meet hers in the mirror.

She was already walking away, calling for Hannah, our head housekeeper, her mind shifting to the next thing, but I stayed rooted in place.

Where did this dress come from?

I turned, scanning the room, and that's when I saw it.

A white envelope sat on the armrest of the gray couch.

I stepped down carefully, the skirts whispering around my legs, and picked up the envelope. The paper was thick, expensive. My pulse ticked faster as I slid my finger under the seal and pulled out the card inside.

The words, written in deep black ink, sent a chill down my spine.

𝐴 𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑓𝑖𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑎 𝑄𝑢𝑒𝑒𝑛.

...🌺...

The Lockwood Mansion loomed ahead, its towering columns and sprawling estate bathed in the golden glow of lanterns. Laughter and the distant hum of a live orchestra spilled from within, threading through the night air like an invitation.

I ascended the white marble steps, my arm looped with Bonnie's. The cool evening breeze teased the sheer fabric of my pastel-green dress, the embroidered butterflies seeming to flutter against my skin.

"Thanks for being my date," Bonnie murmured, giving my arm a small squeeze.

I smiled, but the expression felt paper-thin. "I've always got your back, Bon. I'm sorry Caroline bailed on you."

Bonnie sighed. "Yeah, don't get me started on that. She's so desperate to prove to herself that Damon's changed, but we both know he's still an ass." She shook her head. "I can't believe she's bringing him here. Her mom's going to lose it."

My jaw ticked at the mention of Damon.

I hated that my mind had stored his name so easily, hated that I let whatever this was—this stupid, fleeting attraction—distract me from the kind of person he really was.

Dangerous. Manipulative. Every bad decision wrapped in leather and a smirk. I'd let my guard down around him, and I wouldn't make that mistake again.

"Bonnie! Selene!"

I snapped out of my thoughts just as Mrs. Lockwood emerged from the grand entrance, her hands clasped together in approval.

"You both look lovely."

"Thanks, Mrs. Lockwood," Bonnie said, all polite charm.

I lifted my skirt slightly as I stepped over the threshold. "Is my mom here?"

Mrs. Lockwood nodded. "She's in the dining room."

My heels clicked against the polished floors as Bonnie drifted toward Elena near the registry, leaving me to navigate the room alone.

I found Mom exactly where I expected—sipping champagne by the antique fireplace, her posture elegant, effortless.

"You look lovely, Mija." She pulled me into a hug, the familiar scent of jasmine and aged parchment wrapping around me like a memory.

"Thanks," I muttered, adjusting the lace sleeve on my arm.

She linked her arm through mine, guiding me toward the registry. My gaze swept over the heirlooms on display—the same gilded relics and framed portraits of the founding families I'd grown up seeing at these events. 

"I have to leave tomorrow," Mom said, her voice gentle but firm. "Only for two months, but I'll be back in time for your ascension."

My fingers curled at my sides. "Why?"

"An old friend needs my help." She hesitated. "Jenna says you can stay in their guest room while I'm gone."

We both knew what she wasn't saying. That the coven only tolerated me because of her. That without her, I'd wake up to hexes woven into my sheets.

I didn't let her finish. "I'll pack tonight."

Relief flickered across her face. "Thank you." She squeezed my hand, then kissed my temple. "Now go have fun with your friends."

I doubted that was possible.

Still, I turned and made my way toward the terrace, only stopping when I spotted Tyler by the drink table. I grabbed his arm, forcing him to face me.

His brow lifted. "Yes, Selene?"

"You need to drop the asshole act," I said, my voice low enough that only he could hear. "Or you're going to end up with no one left."

Tyler scoffed, looking away. "I don't know what you're talking about."

I gave his shoulder a squeeze, making sure he felt the weight behind it. "Yeah, you do. Stop acting like your father if you don't want to become him."

His jaw tightened, but he didn't argue.

I left him with that thought, stepping out into the cool night air. Lanterns hung from the garden arches, casting soft pools of light over couples spinning beneath the sky.

I exhaled slowly, trying to shake the unease crawling under my skin.

"Sunshine?"

I stiffened.

Of course.

I turned, already prepared to shove past him, but Damon stepped into my path, blocking my exit with that infuriating smirk.

"I'm not in the mood," I grumbled.

He extended a hand. "Just a dance."

I stared at it, unmoving.

"Don't tell me you're scared."

A muscle feathered in my jaw.

"No," I said flatly. "I just don't particularly like you."

Damon chuckled. "Now we both know that's a lie."

My lips pressed together.

"It's just one dance."

I shouldn't have given in. Should have turned on my heel and walked away. But something about the way his voice softened at the edges, just enough to sound almost real, made my fingers twitch.

I slid my hand into his.

"This is a bad idea," I muttered, but the way his smirk curved told me he knew I'd already decided.

Lifting the edge of my skirt, I let him guide me onto the dance floor. His hand settled against the bare skin between my shoulder blades—warm, uninvited, electric. A shiver crawled up my spine before I could stop it.

He moved first. I followed.

Our steps fell into slow, measured rhythm. The music faded. So did the crowd. I kept my eyes on anything else—the lights, the shadows, the floor—but one glance at those ice-blue eyes, and everything else disappeared.

It was just him. And me.

"You look beautiful," he murmured.

I blinked, surprised. "Thanks."

My gaze shifted past his shoulder. I frowned as I spotted Stefan and Caroline dancing a few feet away.

"Shouldn't you be dancing with her?" I asked. "She is your date."

Damon barely glanced in their direction. "She's not the one I wanted to dance with."

A chill threaded down my spine.

His fingers pressed lightly against the small of my back, drawing me closer. I swallowed hard, ignoring the way my body reacted to his touch.

"I wanted to apologize," he said, voice lower now. "For being a world-class jerk the other night."

I arched a brow. "Interesting way to apologize."

His smirk wavered, just slightly. "No excuse. My therapist says I'm—" He exhaled. "Acting out. Trying to punish Stefan."

I paused. "Why?"

Damon's jaw clenched. "Let's just say the men in my family are cursed with sibling rivalry."

There it was again. That double meaning in his words.

I searched his eyes, but the answer remained locked behind them.

"Just leave me out of it," I murmured.

I pulled away, turning on my heel before he could say another word.

"Thanks for the dance, Damon."

I walked off the dance floor, feeling his gaze burn against my back long after I was gone.

...🌺...

I stood near the vanity, adjusting the sheer lace of my dress, when the door swung open.

"Hey, Selene."

I turned, my lips curving into a small smile as Caroline breezed in, blonde curls bouncing, blue eyes bright—but not quite as bright as usual.

"Hey, Care. I missed you."

"Me too." She gave me a quick hug before rummaging through her clutch. "So, how are things with Elena and Stefan?"

"Good, I think. Why?"

Caroline hummed, twisting the cap off her lipstick. "My radar must be off 'cause I was getting all sorts of other vibes..."

I blinked, my gaze catching on the scarf wrapped around her neck. A bruise peeked out from underneath, the dark edges barely concealed by the fabric.

My stomach twisted.

Without thinking, I reached out, lifting the scarf.

Caroline jerked back. "Geez, Selene." She scoffed. "Ever heard of personal space?"

I ignored the deflection, my chest tightening as I took a closer look. The bruising wasn't just from rough hands. It was darker, deeper, the unmistakable imprint of teeth lingering beneath it.

My blood turned to ice.

"Did Damon do that to you?"

Caroline's expression hardened. "It's nothing, okay?" She turned back to the mirror, applying her lipstick like I hadn't just caught her bleeding.

I grabbed her wrist, pulling down the shawl. The full extent of the damage made my breath hitch—a bite mark, deep purple bruising, veins spidering faintly under her skin.

"I'm going to kill him."

Caroline yanked free, her eyes blazing. "Just leave me alone, Selene!"

Her voice cracked. She pulled her scarf up, spun on her heel, and rushed out of the room.

I didn't hesitate. I chased after her, my heels clicking against the marble floors, but she disappeared into the throng of elegantly dressed guests before I could catch up.

The air inside felt suffocating.

I shoved my way through the crowd, stepping out onto the cool night lawn, trying to breathe.

A hand grabbed my arm.

I ripped free before I even registered who it was, my magic pulsing in my veins like a warning. Damon stood there under the lantern glow, suit jacket unbuttoned, blue eyes as piercing as ever.

"Sunshine—"

"Stay the hell away from me and my friends," I snapped, my voice razor-sharp. "If I ever catch you near her again, I will kill you."

His smirk faltered. "Just let me—"

"Explain what? That you're using my best friend as a goddamn blood bag?!" My hands clenched at my sides. "There are bruises on her neck and back, Damon. Are you going to kill her?"

His silence said everything.

My stomach twisted into something ugly.

I turned sharply, ready to leave him standing there in the cold, but his voice chased me.

"Sunshine—"

I didn't stop. I didn't even look back.

But the anger inside me burned hot, seething through every cell in my body.

"Selene!"

Elena's voice pulled me from the spiral. I stopped just as she reached me, her fingers gripping my shoulder.

Her brown eyes were filled with concern. "What happened?"

I exhaled, the fury still trembling in my bones. "He's hurting her."

Elena's face darkened. She didn't hesitate—she just pulled me into a hug.

"Is Caroline alright?"

"I don't know." My voice wavered. "She ran when I tried to talk to her."

Elena pulled back, determination settling over her like armor. "We need to find her. You check outside—I'll look inside."

I nodded and lifted my skirts, running toward the lawn, my heels forgotten somewhere in the grass. The laughter from the party faded behind me as I searched the darkened garden.

Panic clawed at my throat.

Please don't be dead. Please don't be dead.

I squinted through the shadows. Caroline was struggling against Damon's grip. Something inside me snapped.

I didn't think—I lifted my hand, whispering the words between my teeth.

"Arràcher soit je."

Damon stumbled back, his hold on Caroline breaking as she collapsed onto the ground.

"Arràcher soit je!"

I squeezed my fingers into a fist as I moved toward him, the spell tightening around his skull like an invisible vice. He screamed. Blood dripped from his eyes, red streaks tracing his cheekbones like tears. I didn't stop until I was standing over him.

"I warned you," I said.

His eyes met mine, wild and unrelenting, and with a flick of my wrist, his neck snapped.

The sound echoed through the night. I didn't flinch.

Stefan materialized beside me, glancing at his brother's motionless form. His expression was unreadable, but he knelt beside Damon, already prepared to haul him away.

"I promise he won't hurt anyone again," Stefan murmured.

I swallowed hard. "Just go, Stefan."

He hesitated, then slung Damon over his shoulder and disappeared into the night.

I turned back to Caroline.

She was still on the ground, trembling, her breaths coming too fast. A faint sheen of sweat coated her forehead.

I knelt beside her. "Care?"

Her fingers curled around an amber crystal lying in the grass.

"I'm fine," she croaked.

I placed my hands on her shoulders. "Care, you're shaking."

She trembled harder. "I'm fine."

The lie sat heavy between us.

I pulled her into my arms, feeling the way her body sagged into mine. She shook against me, silent sobs wracking her frame.

"Please don't leave me," she whispered.

I held her tighter. "I won't."

Her fingers gripped my dress. I rubbed slow, soothing circles into her back, pressing my lips to the top of her head.

"He's never going to hurt you again, Caroline."

She didn't respond.

She just kept crying.

And I just kept holding her.

...🌺...

𝐀/𝐍: ANOTHER UPDATE!!!

There were some cute Selene and Damon moments in this chapter. But Damon should know better than to mess with Selene's friends.

I hope you enjoyed the update!!!

𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒: How are we feeling about the rewrite? What are you looking forward to in the rest of this book?

-𝑀𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑛𝑎 𝐵𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑘