It was a colder night than usual. Rising like a silver coin in the sky, the moon spread lengthy shadows across the ground. Cassandra stood alone in the clearing, her breath rising in moonlight-shimmering clouds. After the day's turmoil, she came here to find calm and clear her head. The vision arrived the instant she shut her eyes.
Each time, the vision unfolded with a mysterious familiarity. Cassandra's ears were filled with a distant sound, like the echo of thunder. The ground beneath her trembled, and the world had transformed when she opened her eyes. A war was on the brink, the sky obscured by smoke. The air was thick with the acrid scent of destruction and burning wood. The once grand walls of the kingdom now lie in ruins, a testament to the devastation.
Then came Damon.
Beside her, he stood, his outline set against the fire. Gone was his typical confident attitude; in its place was an odd weariness in his eyes. A brief touch of his hand against hers sent a shudder down her spine. She faced him, but before she could say anything, the ground under their feet split apart, devouring all in its way.
"What brought us here?" She murmured, but Damon remained silent. His gaze was locked on something far beyond the flames on the horizon.
Cassandra felt the pull in her chest, the deep connection between them that had only strengthened since their first encounter. It was something actual, something unarguable, not only the vision. She could feel it now, like an unseen thread drawing her towards him, as if their fates were somehow linked.
"I can't…" Damon's voice barely murmured, piercing through the cacophony like a razor. "I can't do this."
Cassandra felt pain in her heart. "What should I do?"
But the vision changed before he could respond. The earth under them trembled violently as the fire got hotter. She could hear the dying moans, the frantic screams of former kingdom inhabitants. She reached for Damon's hand and saw the vision dissolving like smoke in the wind.
Then, just before it vanished, she heard it—a whisper, almost inaudible but sharp as a dagger piercing through the background.
"It's your choice."
The words rang in her head, bouncing around her bones. Then the vision vanished, leaving just darkness and the frigid night air.
Breathing in thin breaths, Cassandra fell back. The weight of the vision resting on her made her heart race in her chest. She had witnessed everything—the collapse of the Kingdom, Damon's presence next to her, the devastation, the mayhem. But what did it signify? What decision was she meant to make? The uncertainty of her choice hung heavy in the air, a palpable weight on her shoulders.
Her fingers shook when she touched her lips, but Damon's ghost touch remained. She could no longer resist the pull between them. But what would be the price? Cassandra knew she was standing at the edge of it as the future felt unclear, like a storm on the horizon.
The moonlight was milder tonight, a little silver sheen covering the trees in an unsettling radiance. Her pulse raced with every step as Cassandra dashed into the woods. Though it wasn't something she should be doing, she knew where she was heading but could no longer resist the pull.
Damon waited for her in the clearing, his black form against the night sky. His face was unreadable, his shoulders tight. He seemed like a man fighting a battle within himself.
Before she could respond, his voice was low and defensive. He continued, "You shouldn't be here. This is not safe."
Cassandra took a step forward, her heart racing in her chest. She had to find out. "Why do you keep pushing me away?" Her voice, though soft, carried the weight of her emotions, the tension between them almost tangible.
Damon glanced at her, his gaze distant yet strong like a storm. "You don't get it. This, whatever this is between us, it's dangerous."
She halted in front of him, near enough to sense the warmth of his body and the energy that appeared to vibrate between them. "What is dangerous about it?" she enquired softly, her voice just above a whisper.
He hesitated, his eyes dancing with fear, want, and doubt. You don't know what you're asking for, he said quietly. I don't want to pull you into this.
Cassandra, however, was not giving in. "I am already here. I'm not going away, either."
They stood in a tense silence, each battling their internal conflicts. Damon's jaw was clenched, his gaze avoiding hers. He was fighting something, resisting the growing connection that was becoming too powerful to ignore. Cassandra could feel his hesitation, fear, and something more tender, more real.
His voice, almost a whisper, he confessed, "I don't know how to let go of you."
Cassandra's fingers brushed his arm as she reached for him. "Then don't."
His eyes found hers then, and the universe appeared to vanish briefly. Only the two of them stood in the stillness of the woods, connected by something more profound than language. But a far howl shattered the calm as the quiet lengthened between them.
Damon's head jerked up, and his muscles tensed right away. "Return to the pack. Back to the pack. Now."
"What is going on?" Cassandra enquired, her heart pounding. His words had an urgency she could sense; the threat was approaching.
Before he could speak, another howl rang through the trees, followed by the sound of something enormous moving through the underbrush. Damon's voice was low with authority, and his eyes clouded. "Go. Now." The urgency in his voice was unmistakable, the danger approaching like a storm on the horizon.
Cassandra, however, remained still. She couldn't. Something was going on, something larger than any of them. Their connection was clear-cut, and she couldn't help but think that whatever was approaching was related to the decision she had to make.
"I'm not leaving you," she answered, her voice calm despite the internal dread consuming her.
Damon's look softened for a while, but then the howl returned—this time, closer. Grabbing her arm, he muttered under his breath. "This is not a choice you can make lightly. Trust me."
Though Cassandra didn't want to believe him, the urgency in his voice gave no room for debate. Not now, not when all inside her was crying for her to be with him. Still, she couldn't help but think that danger was approaching.
She turned away from him with regret, her gaze fixing on his one last time. "We'll finish this later."
The wail returned, louder and more persistent as she turned to go. It wasn't only the wolves; something was approaching them.
The pack's territory felt different tonight, almost as if the earth under Cassandra's feet was shifting, changing with the breeze. The vision's weight remained on her thoughts, and the pull to Damon became stronger with each passing minute. Though she wanted to ignore them, they stayed with her.
The others were busy getting ready for the night patrols inside the pack's camp, the low murmurs of conversation filling the air. Cassandra, though, was unable to concentrate. Her thoughts returned to the image, Damon's presence next to her in the fiery realm, and the murmur in her ear.
"It's your choice."
But what choice? The question gnawed at her, creating a hole in her chest. She knew she was meant for something bigger, but what was it? And why did it have to include Damon?
Once, a slight murmur in the back of her head, her powers felt stronger than ever. Though it wasn't only her powers evolving, she could sense the energy running through her veins—her heart was it. Whenever she thought of Damon, their connection seemed to grow more undeniable.
When Cassandra lay in bed that night, sleep didn't come easily. The vision of the kingdom burning returned in her memory, the sounds of destruction reverberating in her ears. But this time, there was a new picture—a vision of Damon standing next to her, their hands tied in chains, their destiny bonded together.
Cassandra woke up gasping, her pulse pounding in her chest from the vividness and reality of the image. Breathing fast, she sat up and momentarily forgot where she was.
Then she recalled. Back in the pack's camp, her body shaking under the burden of the image. Somewhere, Damon was still out there; the decision she had to make was growing more difficult.
Her fingertips grazed her lips, and she shut her eyes as though she could still sense the heat of his touch. And in the night's darkness, the answer came to her—no matter what it cost, she would find him.