Ever since you turned, something felt wrong. Your skin burned like fire beneath the surface, every bone shivering even though the room was warm. It was constant—unrelenting. The memory came back without warning. Elena’s attack. The blood. Then her humanity snapping back on as she collapsed beside you, crying on her knees. The image made your stomach twist every time. You’d been losing too much blood. Too fast. The hospital was never an option. So Damon made the call—gave you his blood, even after Stefan warned him not to. “You alright?” You looked up, startled. Damon stood in the doorway, hands tucked into his pockets like he wasn’t carrying the weight of what he’d done. Only then did it hit you—you were in the Salvatore house.