And it does, but not in the way it’s supposed to. His control, the way he doesn’t ask, just acts... It sends shivers straight through me, low and dangerous. My cheeks burn from the shame of knowing I don’t hate his touch.
I hate that I don’t hate it.
Fucking hell.
“How do you even have money in this world?” I blurt, grasping for any distraction. Anything safer than what just happened, Kai lets go of me and walks to the back of his bike. Dropping the bags in the compartment, using the runes etched on it to make everything fit. He then hands me the helmet and swings one leg over the seat.
“Always be prepared. And with Kvirr, you can do just about anything if you follow its rules.”
“You used a glamour?” I ask, arching a brow.
I never really saw the point in learning those kinds of spells. I don’t have to hide what I am, not like some Elgarians, not like Ruby. But I clearly underestimated its usefulness. In Elgar, no one in their right mind accepts a payment without casting an anti-spell first. It’s basic caution, but here?
Honestly, if I’d known glamour could cover gas money and groceries, I’d have mastered it way earlier.
“Don’t get too excited,” Kai says as he starts the engine.
"Permanent enchantments don’t exist; only curses can last forever. And they always come with a hell of a price."
Well, that’s a nice way to kill the mood.
I climb on behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist as we head toward my place. As soon as I received the new phone, I texted Vanessa, but honestly, I’m not even sure I have the right number, so I also downloaded some apps in case the text isn’t enough.
We zoom past cars, barely stopping at lights. Kai drives as if he’s invincible, and maybe, as a lycan, he kind of is. But I’m not, and yet, with him... I feel safe. Even when he swerves through traffic at a speed that’s definitely illegal, I don’t tense up. I just let it happen, let itallhappen. His arm occasionally reaches back to steady me when he takes a tight turn or veers too sharply. At first, it catches me off guard, but eventually, I let go. And I stop thinking, letting the wind pull the thoughts out of my mind. Lost in the rush. In the wild, reckless high that only speed can offer.
And I love it.
Starving for anything that will make me feel alive in this ocean of darkness. I’m drowning, and Kai’s the only thing that seems to keep me afloat.
Walking into my home feels...Off. The warmth that usually lingers in the walls is gone, stripped clean. What’s left behind is thick and heavy, as if the air itself is holding its breath, walking on eggshells. The only light comes from the moon slicing through the window, casting long, crooked shadows that twist and shift, a mind of their own. But the proof of what happened here is gone.
“There was a hole here,” I say, confused, as I walk toward the foundation, resting my palm on the cold wood.
“There was,” Kai answers quietly.
He fixed it.
I look at him, but he’s already moving away, heading up the stairs toward my room. Of course, he’ll erase any ties to another world. I follow him, walking into my bedroom, and I quickly retrieve my backpack. Dumping everything out, I start throwing in clothes and whatever I might need. Kai’s sitting on my bed as if he always belonged there, just two people hanging out in a room.
“What do you remember about your mother?” he asks, as if he’s asking about the weather. The question stops me cold. My hands go still, the shirt I was folding hanging limply between my fingers. I slowly set it down, unsettled, still not looking at him.
“I don’t have many clear memories,” I say, voice low. “It’s more like… dreams that faded over time. Blurry, half-gone, no matter how hard I try to hold onto it, it slips away.” Even I can hear the sadness in my voice.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Kai asks, softer than I’ve ever heard him.
It throws me off a little, this quieter side of him, more open. The rough edges finally gave way to something softer, and somehow, it doesn’t feel out of place. It suits him, as if it were always there, just buried under the weight of everything else.
“I know she loved me,” my eyes fixed on the bag, then I slowly move. “I can feel that much, even if the rest is hazy. I also have this feeling that I wasn’t the easiest kid to raise.” Kai chuckles but doesn’t interrupt, so I keep going. The words pull themselves out before I can second-guess them. “She had long, black, curly hair. I know she was beautiful, inside and out. The kind of woman people respected, admired even. And she always somehow made time for us, her family.”
I pause, the next part catching in my throat.
“I know all those things… All the pieces. But no matter how hard I try, I just… can’t see the whole picture.” My voice cracks at the end, and I feel it all rising—grief, frustration, the helplessness of remembering just enough to ache for what’s missing.
I keep my eyes down, afraid of what I’ll see. I can handle a lot, but not pity, not from him. But his hand, warm and strong, lifts my chin with a tenderness that disarms me. Kai doesn’t force me; he just waits until I meet his gaze.
“Don’t hide,” he says softly, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Not from me. Never from me.” I exhale, sharp and bitter, letting him lead me to sit next to him, eye to eye.
“Why wouldn’t I?” I murmur. “You do it all the time.”
