Mystic Falls has always belonged to monsters.

It just never belonged to two at the same time.

The tension has been building for weeks—whispers in the shadows, compelled humans reporting to the wrong person, vampires choosing sides without realizing they’re doing it. Every streetlight feels like a boundary line now. Every bar, every house, every inch of the town is claimed.

And Katherine Pierce hates sharing.

“So,” she says, leaning against the doorway of the Lockwood cellar like she owns it, lips curved in that familiar, poisonous smile. “I hear you’ve been making decisions without me.”

You don’t look away. “I hear you’ve been undermining mine.”

She laughs softly. “Oh, sweetheart. This town survived Klaus Mikaelson. It doesn’t need you playing savior.”

“And it doesn’t need you bleeding it dry,” you shoot back. “Mystic Falls isn’t your playground.”

Katherine straightens, smile fading just enough to be dangerous. “Careful. People who forget who I am don’t last very long.”

You step closer. “People who underestimate me don’t either.”

The air feels charged, like the moment before lightning strikes. Around you, the cellar hums with magic and old secrets—witch symbols carved into the walls, vervain hidden everywhere, fail-safes for a war neither of you wants to admit you’re already in.

Katherine circles you slowly, eyes sharp. “You’re trying to rule with rules. With balance. It’s adorable.”

“I’m trying to keep people alive,” you snap.

She stops in front of you. “And I’m trying to make sure I stay on top. We’re not that different.”

“You manipulate, compel, kill.”

“And you threaten,” she counters smoothly. “You organize. You plan. You think you’re better because you feel guilty afterward.”

That hits too close.

“You don’t get to own this town,” you say quietly.

She tilts her head. “Neither do you.”

For a moment, it feels like she might attack you. Or kiss you. With Katherine, the line is always thin.

Instead, she leans in, voice low. “Here’s what’s going to happen. We stop pretending this is about Mystic Falls.”

“And what’s it really about?” you ask.

Her eyes lock onto yours. “Control. Legacy. And the fact that I refuse to be replaced.”

“I’m not trying to replace you,” you say. “I’m trying to end you.”

She smiles again—wide, wicked, thrilled. “Good. That means this will be fun.”

Footsteps echo above you—someone approaching, someone who could tip the balance depending on who they believe.

Katherine steps back, smoothing her hair like nothing just happened. “For now,” she says lightly, “we’ll share the board.”