Mystic Falls never stayed quiet for long — not with Kai Parker in town.

You were standing in the middle of the Salvatore library, the air still heavy with the smell of blood and bourbon, when the front door slammed open. A familiar voice followed, smooth and teasing, already too confident for someone who’d probably just caused a mess somewhere.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite moral compass.”

You turned, arms crossed, watching Kai stroll in with that half-smirk that made you want to roll your eyes and smile at the same time. His shirt was half unbuttoned, streaks of dried dirt across his sleeves.

“What did you do this time?” you asked flatly.

He raised both hands, feigning innocence. “Why do you assume it’s my fault?”

“Because it’s always your fault.”

That earned a laugh, low and boyish, but with that dangerous undertone that never really left him. He walked closer, invading your space like it was his second nature.

You blinked, unimpressed. “You’re unbelievable.”

He leaned in, grin widening. “You mean irresistibly charming.”

You stared up at him, trying not to give him the satisfaction of a reaction, but the proximity — the warmth, the spark of trouble radiating off him — made it hard.