The Salvatores' boarding house felt louder than usual.
Not in sound, but in presence. The walls held tension like a held breath, the threads reacting to every movement inside as if anticipating conflict. Stefan stood near the window when we entered, his posture rigid, eyes flicking toward me the moment I crossed the threshold.
"You went to see them," he said.
It wasn't a question.
"Yes."
The threads stirred, brushing faintly against the floorboards as Stefan's concern sharpened into something closer to fear.
"Are you insane?" Damon asked lightly, though his gaze never left Stefan.
"They invited me," I replied. "I accepted."
Stefan took a step forward. "You don't accept invitations from the Originals."
"I do," I said calmly, "if refusing would cause more harm."
That gave him pause.
He studied me closely now, as if seeing me properly for the first time. "They didn't threaten you."
"No."
"They didn't demand anything."
"No."
"That's worse," Damon muttered.
The threads pulsed faintly, echoing his unease.
I moved deeper into the room, feeling the house respond to my presence. It was old, but not ancient. It remembered grief more than power. Loss clung to its walls, heavy but familiar.
"They're watching," Stefan said. "I can feel it."
"So can I."
Damon scoffed. "Great. Fantastic. The Original family is now casually observing our lives."
"They were always watching," I said. "They're just paying attention now."
Silence followed.
The threads shifted, reaching outward, brushing against the town beyond the house. I felt it then. Confusion. Frustration. A vampire attempting compulsion and failing. Another feeding interrupted by inexplicable hesitation.
Balance came at a cost.
Stefan rubbed a hand over his face. "You're interfering with free will."
"I'm preventing slaughter."
"That's not the same thing," he said quietly.
"No," I agreed. "But it's necessary."
Damon leaned against the table, arms crossed. "You keep saying that like necessity excuses everything."
"It doesn't," I said. "It explains it."
Outside, the night deepened. Somewhere far beyond Mystic Falls, a thread trembled, pulled taut by something that did not yet belong here.
I felt it then. Clearer than before.
This wasn't just about the Originals.
Something older was becoming aware of the disturbance.
I steadied myself, grounding the threads as best I could. For now, the balance held.
For now.
But eyes were watching from every direction.
And soon, watching would not be enough.