Chapter 5 THE WOMAN FROM HIS PAST

Seraphina's POV

“It's just a small gathering,” Catherine had said.

By the time we arrived, I knew that was a lie.

The house belonged to someone whose name I didn't catch, perched on a hill with lights spilling down the driveway. Valets moved around quietly, music hummed beneath the laughter, and everyone looked polished, expensive, untouchable.

Their conversations were light, practiced, layered with meaning I couldn't fully grasp.

I felt like an accessory.

Catherine beamed as she stepped out of the car, her arm looped through Damon's like it had always belonged there. She barely glanced back at me.

“Try to enjoy yourself,” she said lightly. “These people are important.”

To her, maybe.

I smoothed down my dress, suddenly aware of every inch of skin showing. Damon didn't look at me. He was already scanning the space, his posture rigid, his attention moving from the entrance to the people around us.

Watching.

I wanted to hide, to shrink into the background, but I knew that would be worse. He would notice.

He always noticed.

Inside, the air buzzed with conversation. Crystal glasses clinked, names were exchanged like currency, and Catherine immediately disappeared into a circle of women who looked just like her, elegant and confident, completely uninterested in me.

Their laughter sounded distant.

I stayed near Damon, not because I wanted to, but because it felt safer than floating around alone. Near him, I at least knew what to expect.

Or I thought I did.

Then she appeared. I didn't notice her at first.

I noticed Damon.

The slight change in his posture was enough to make me look up. His shoulders tightened, his expression hardened, and for the first time that evening, he looked less like the man who controlled every room he entered and more like someone who had just seen something he hadn't expected.

I followed his gaze.

She was tall and striking, with dark hair pulled back and red lipstick sharp against her skin. She moved with the confidence of someone who knew exactly where she belonged.

And she was looking straight at him.

“Damon,” she said with a smile as she approached.

His expression closed instantly.

“Lena.”

So this was her. The woman whose presence had changed him without even saying a word.

She turned to me, her eyes moving over my face with unsettling precision. It wasn't curiosity.

It was an assessment.

“And you must be Seraphina.”

My stomach tightened. “Have we met?”

“No,” she said smoothly. “But I've heard about you.”

I glanced at Damon.

His jaw clenched.

“That isn't appropriate,” he said.

Lena's smile widened. “Relax. I meant no harm.”

Her eyes returned to me.

“You look younger than I imagined.”

“I am young,” I replied before I could stop myself.

Something flickered in her eyes.

“Yes,” she said. “I suppose that's part of the appeal.”

Damon stepped slightly between us.

“Enough.”

She lifted her hands in mock surrender. “I'm just saying hello.”

Catherine suddenly appeared beside us, smiling as though nothing strange had happened.

“Lena! I didn't know you'd be here.”

“Last minute invitation,” Lena replied. “You look radiant, Catherine. Marriage suits you.”

Catherine laughed. “Doesn't it?”

Damon said nothing. He didn't have to.

His silence made it obvious that he wasn't enjoying this reunion.

Lena looked at him for a moment before turning back to me.

“He was always drawn to things that needed protection.”

My chest tightened. “Excuse me?”

Her smile remained, but her eyes didn't soften.

“Damon has a habit. Once he decides something matters, he holds on too tightly.”

“That's enough,” Damon said sharply.

Catherine laughed lightly. “Oh, Damon, don't be so serious.”

Oh but he was serious.

I could see it in the way he stood, the way his eyes kept moving around the room, the way his attention never seemed to settle.

Lena noticed it too.

There was something almost satisfied in her expression.

“Some habits never die,” she said.

Then she walked away.

For a few seconds, none of us spoke.

Catherine sighed. “She's dramatic. Ignore her.”

Easy for her to say.

She hadn't been the one Lena had looked at, like she already knew something about her.

I glanced toward Damon. He was still watching Lena.

And whatever had passed between them before tonight clearly wasn't over.

For the rest of the evening, Damon barely touched his drink. He stayed close, closer than he usually did, his attention constantly moving through the room.

Exits.

Corners.

People who looked our way for too long.

It was the same kind of alertness I'd seen at the mansion, but tonight it felt different.

More personal.

I didn't know what he was looking for, but I was beginning to understand that his warnings weren't completely about controlling me.

Something had him on edge.

Later, I slipped away to find the bathroom, needing a few minutes without Catherine's friends, the music, or Damon's watchful presence.

The hallway was quieter, lined with closed doors and muted lights.

I had almost reached the end when I heard voices around the corner.

Damon's.

And Lena's.

I stopped.

“You shouldn't have come,” Damon said.

“I was invited,” Lena replied coolly. “Unlike last time, when you locked me out.”

“That was necessary.”

“For you,” she countered. “You were always good at convincing yourself of that.”

I stayed where I was, barely breathing.

There was a pause.

“She isn't part of this,” Damon said.

“She already is.”

My heart skipped.

“You brought her into your world. That never ends well.”

“I won't let it happen again.”

Lena gave a quiet, bitter laugh.

“You said that before.”

There was silence again. Then her voice changed.

“I lost everything because you chose to protect the wrong person.”

Damon's voice dropped. “Lower your voice.”

“Why?” she challenged. “Afraid she'll hear?”

I pressed myself closer to the wall. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Damon said something so quietly I almost missed it.

“I'm afraid history will repeat itself.”

My breath caught.

I stepped back before either of them could see me.

I should have walked away.

Instead, I stayed for another second, trying to understand what I had just heard.

History.

Wrong person.

Protection.

Lost everything.

None of it made sense, but one thing did.

Damon was afraid.

Not of me.

For me.

I finally turned and headed back toward the main room.

The noise hit me the moment I stepped through the doorway, but it felt distant now. I could still hear Lena's voice in my head, could still see the way Damon had reacted when she appeared.

Maybe he wasn't watching me because he simply wanted control.

Maybe he was watching because he knew something I didn't. And somehow, that frightened me more.

Because fear was something I hadn't seen in him before.

Damon was usually controlled, certain, almost impossible to read. But tonight, Lena had cracked something open, even if only for a moment.

I looked across the room. His eyes found me almost immediately.

He didn't smile. He didn't look away either.

I felt the weight of his attention from across the room, and suddenly I understood why his warnings had always sounded so specific.

Someone had hurt him before. Someone had made him afraid of history repeating itself.

And now I was somehow standing in the middle of that history.

I looked toward the hallway where Lena had disappeared.

For the first time, I wondered what had really happened between them. And why Damon seemed so determined to make sure it never happened again.

Whatever the answer was, I had a feeling I was going to find out soon.

Whether Damon wanted me to or not.