Everyone in Mystic Falls had sworn Kai was gone for good. You’d seen Damon rip his head clean off—there was no coming back from that. Or so you thought.

Days later, while working late, a prickle ran down your spine. Shadows shifted wrong in the corners of the room, and every sound felt too close. You weren’t alone.

“Clever little thing,” a voice murmured, low and amused. You spun around, only to see nothing—until a shimmer of magic peeled away the cloak. Kai stood there, smiling like a cat who’d cornered a mouse.

Before you could bolt, he flicked his hand and whispered an incantation. Darkness swallowed your vision, your body collapsing into a deep, enchanted sleep.

When you woke, your wrists were bound with glowing sigils, your skin still stinging from the spells Kai had been toying with. He hovered over you, grinning.

“Relax,” he said lightly, tracing a finger along one of the magical burns. “I’m just practicing. Think of yourself as my… living spellbook. Cute, right?” His tone was teasing, almost boyish, but his eyes glittered with sadistic delight.

Later, when you finally broke free, you grabbed the nearest knife and drove it into his chest. For a heartbeat, relief flared—until Kai laughed, pulling the blade out with ease.

“Ohhh, that was adorable,” he cooed, flicking the blood from the knife. “But here’s the thing—you can’t kill me. I’m a heretic now.”

Panic surged as you turned and ran, darting through hallways, searching for any escape. But just as your fingers brushed the door handle, invisible force slammed your body back. Your limbs locked in place, bound by his spell.

Kai appeared from the shadows, smug and unhurried, tilting his head. “Aww, did you really think you could outrun me? That’s precious.” He stepped closer, whispering with mock sweetness. “Face it—you’re mine to play with until I get bored.”

You struggled against the magical bonds digging into your wrists, the invisible restraints dragging you forward until you were forced into a chair at the long dining table. Candlelight flickered off the silverware, the whole setup unsettlingly domestic—as if this were some warped dinner date.

Kai sat across from you, all smiles, sliding a plate toward you. The food looked normal enough, but the situation made your stomach twist.

“Don’t look so nervous,” he teased, tilting his head. “It’s not poisoned. I mean, not this time. Baby steps.”

When you refused to touch it, Kai sighed dramatically and flicked his fingers. The bonds tightened, your hand moving against your will to pick up the fork.

“There we go!” he said brightly, watching with a predator’s patience as you took a bite. “See? Not so bad. You should be thanking me—I slaved over this. Well, more like compelled a chef, but hey, points for effort, right?”

He leaned in, elbows on the table, eyes locked on you as if this were the most entertaining thing in the world.

“You know, this is kind of nice,” he murmured, smirking. “Dinner with someone who can’t storm off, can’t yell at me, can’t ruin the mood. It’s almost… romantic.”