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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
The music had already started by the time she appeared.
Vanessa descended slowly, the deep red of her dress catching the candlelight with every movement. It wasn’t overly elaborate, but it didn’t need to be. She wore it like it belonged to her, like the entire room was something she could walk through without ever truly being part of it.
At the edge of the crowd, Stefan Salvatore forgot whatever he had been thinking about before. He watched her reach the bottom of the stairs, watched as people greeted her, tried to draw her into conversation. She smiled when she had to, nodded when it was expected, but there was a distance in her eyes that didn’t quite match the moment.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he was already walking toward her. “Would you like to dance?”
Vanessa turned at the sound of his voice, her expression unreadable for a second before something softer slipped through. Not surprise—more like recognition of something she hadn’t expected to feel.
“I don’t even know your name,” she said.
“Stefan.”
A pause.
“Vanessa,” she replied. No last name.
The music carried them easily, the steps familiar, practiced. Around them, the rest of the room blurred into movement and color, but neither of them seemed particularly interested in anyone else.
“You’re not from Mystic Falls,” Stefan said after a moment.
“Is it that obvious?”
“You stand out.”
That earned the smallest hint of a smile. “That’s usually not a good thing.”
“I don’t think it’s a bad thing either.”
Vanessa glanced at him then, really looking at him, as if trying to figure out whether he meant it.
“You say that now.”
“And later?”
Her gaze drifted briefly across the room before returning to him. “Later, people tend to realize they were wrong.”
Stefan huffed out a quiet laugh. “You don’t seem very optimistic.”
“I’m realistic.”
There was something in the way she said it—something that felt heavier than the conversation should have been—but it didn’t push him away. If anything, it made him lean into it more.
“You talk like you’ve seen more than most people here.”
“I have.”
It wasn’t said arrogantly. Just… simply.
Stefan didn’t question it. He just nodded, like he believed her without needing proof.
And that, more than anything, caught her off guard.
Time slipped.
One dance turned into another, and another, until the music began to fade and people slowly started to leave. The night softened, the energy settling into something quieter, more real.
Outside, the air was cooler.
Stefan walked beside her as the last of the guests filtered out, neither of them rushing to say goodbye.
“I’m glad I asked you to dance,” he said.
Vanessa let out a small breath, something almost like a laugh. “So am I.”
There was a pause then, the kind that felt like it was leading somewhere.
“We’ll see each other again,” Stefan added, like it was already decided. “Hopefully.”
Hopefully.
The word lingered.
Vanessa looked at him for a moment, something conflicted flickering behind her eyes. She could say yes. She could let him believe it.
“Vanessa.” The voice cut in smoothly. She didn’t need to turn to know who it was, but she did anyway.
Elijah Mikaelson stood a few steps away, composed as ever, but there was an urgency beneath it. One that didn’t belong in a night like this. Behind him, Klaus Mikaelson and Rebekah Mikaelson lingered, already watching.
Something was wrong.
Vanessa’s expression shifted instantly. “What is it?” she asked quietly.
“He’s here,” Elijah said, just as quietly. “Mikael.”
The word alone was enough.
Everything changed in an instant.
They didn’t waste time.
Running was second nature by now. Plans didn’t need to be discussed in detail—they were understood. Leave before dawn. Don’t stay long enough to be found.
Vanessa stood just outside the estate for a moment longer than the others, her eyes drifting back toward where Stefan still stood.
She could tell him. She could walk back, grab his hand, ask him to come with her. For a split second, the idea felt real. And then it didn’t. It would be dangerous. For him. For her. For all of them. “I’ll be there in a moment,” she told Elijah.
He studied her for a second, like he knew exactly what she was thinking, before giving a small nod. “Don’t be long.”
Klaus said nothing, but there was something knowing in the glance he gave her. Rebekah just looked… sympathetic. And then they stepped away, leaving her alone.
Stefan hadn’t moved far. He turned when he heard her footsteps, something hopeful flickering across his face. “Everything okay?”
Vanessa stopped a few steps away from him. She wanted to memorize this. The way he looked at her, like nothing complicated existed yet. Like the world was still simple.
“I have to go,” she said.
“So soon?”
She nodded.
“For how long?”
That was the question, wasn’t it?
Vanessa forced a small smile. “I don’t know.”
Stefan frowned slightly, like he didn’t quite accept that answer. “Then… I guess I’ll just have to wait.”
The certainty in his voice made something twist in her chest.
“Maybe,” she said softly.
It wasn’t a promise. It couldn’t be.
By the time Stefan stepped away, the street had already begun to empty. That’s when he noticed them.
Three figures, not far off.
One of them—Klaus—was unmistakable, even in the dim light.
Stefan hesitated before approaching.
“Hey,” he called out. “Vanessa said she had to leave...do you know where she’s going?”
Klaus turned slowly, his expression unreadable for a moment before something almost amused flickered through. “And why would you like to know that?”
Stefan exhaled lightly. “Because I’d like to see her again.”
A beat of silence. Then Klaus stepped closer.
“I’m afraid,” he said, voice calm, almost pleasant, “that’s not something you need to concern yourself with.”
Stefan frowned. “I don’t—”
Klaus’s gaze locked onto his, "And you won’t." His pupils constricting as he spoke.
“You will forget,” Klaus continued, his tone smooth, controlled, “meeting us tonight. You will forget my sister. You will forget the dance, the conversation… all of it.”
Stefan’s expression faltered, confusion slipping into something distant.
“You won’t remember Vanessa,” Klaus finished.
By the time Stefan blinked again, the street was empty.
The night felt… normal.
Like nothing had happened at all.
He glanced back at the estate, faintly distracted, as if trying to recall something just out of reach.
