You had survived centuries. Empires collapsed in front of your eyes, wars turned the world into ash, and people were born and died faster than you could remember their faces. You were an Original — one of the first, something far older and far more dangerous than the young vampires now trying to act intimidating. Which made it almost ironic that those two boys were beginning to cause you trouble. Especially the older brother.

You had only come there because of a deal. Stefan offered an exchange — cooperation in return for Elena’s protection — and you had your own reasons for agreeing, even if simply being inside that house already irritated you. When the boarding house door opened, the first thing you saw was him.

Damon leaned casually against the doorway like the entire world was his personal show, wearing that irritating half-smile and that look in his eyes that seemed determined to provoke you from the very first second. Too young. Too confident. Far too mouthy for someone standing in front of an Original.

You stared at him coldly without a trace of emotion while his gaze slowly moved over your figure before he raised an eyebrow slightly.

“Sweetheart, the boutique’s that way.” he said with amusement, pointing somewhere behind you as if he genuinely thought teasing someone who could rip his heart out before he blinked was a good idea.