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IV. SHE WHO IS NOT SOUGHT
STEFAN Salvatore was going to die.
He hadn't entirely processed his decision to rush into the tomb, but the second he heard Elena's scream, his decision had been made. He was not losing someone else— not if he could stop it.
And as he crept through the dark tomb, attempting to step over the bodies of the desiccated vampires that lay at his feet, he allowed himself to process the decision he had made.
It was inevitable that one day he would die. Sure, he had escaped the cruel grasp of death many times before, but he knew one day he wouldn't. And perhaps this is what he deserved, to die a painful and anguishing death that was almost symbolic to the way he had killed and fed his addiction.
But more than anything, he just wanted Elena to be okay. He could allow himself to succumb to his grief and pity himself when he knew she was safe and out of the tomb. The tomb that he was going to be sealed in for the rest of his life as a desiccated reminder of who he once was.
The tomb that lay below the place where his sister had been murdered.
He knew he deserved it, but Elena, she didn't.
A rush of relief ran through him when he found her in the tomb, but it was quickly taken over by the surge of anger he felt when he saw her wrist torn open and pressed to the lips of one of the vampires and Anna standing behind Elena, holding her in place.
He was quick to pull Anna off of Elena, throwing her against the stone wall, "Let her go!"
Pulling Elena up from the ground, he shoved her in the direction of the exit, urging her to run, "Go, go! I'm right behind you."
He allowed himself to look at her retreating figure for a second longer than he needed to before turning back to block to exit from Anna.
The scent of Elena's blood lingered in the air and Stefan tried to ignore the ache in his gums. The whispers grew louder around them, the vampires not only feeling Elena's presence but having the aroma of her blood in the air was intoxicating.
Stefan's fingers ran through his hair and tugged at the roots as he hovered over, dropping his hands to his knees as he breathed in heavily through his mouth. He pushed himself forward, going in the direction that Elena had gone, but stopping at the entryway.
He knew he was going to die and in some ways he had accepted his face. But the look on Elena's face, he would never be able to stomach that.
