33. Damon's Thoughts

Stefan's rage was palpable, his anger seething as he pinned me against the wall, a stake pressed menacingly against my abdomen. Despite the threat, I couldn't help but roll my eyes at his feeble attempt at intimidation.

"You're not going to kill me, brother," I remarked dismissively. "If you were, you would have done it a long time ago. Let's face it, I've done much worse."

His grip loosened slightly, but the tension in the air remained thick. Stefan's voice dripped with frustration as he accused me of risking our secret by confiding in Bella.

"She figured it out herself," he retorted defensively.

"Well, Bella was kidnapped and told," I mused. "Somehow, I think I win this round."

I pushed him away, my patience wearing thin with his incessant complaints.

"She's had contact with Cold Ones, Damon!" Stefan's voice rose with urgency. "You know how dangerous they can be."

"For whom, brother?" I countered, my tone laced with anger. "For your precious Elena? Why should I care about Katherine's look-alike?"

A swig of whisky did little to calm my frayed nerves as Stefan continued to lecture me about the implications of Bella's bite mark.

"Shut the hell up, Stefan," I snapped, shoving him against the wall in retaliation. My demeanor darkened as I defended Bella's presence vehemently. "Bella is staying, and you can't do anything about it. So I suggest you get over your petty issues with her and move on."

Stefan's shocked expression morphed into one of realization, and a hint of amusement danced in his eyes.

"You... you... you care about her," he whispered incredulously.

I refused to dignify his observation with a response, instead fixing him with a steely glare.

He chuckled softly. "You really care about her."

"So what if I do?" I growled, my frustration boiling over.

With that, I left, the weight of Stefan's words hanging in the air. My mind raced as I made my way back to Bella's house, my thoughts consumed by her. Red, I decided, was definitely her color.