Losing Your Memory ° Kai Parker

Chapter 33

The house feels like it's holding its breath.

Jennifer stands in the hallway, staring at the space she's supposed to call "her room."
Kai stands behind her, one hand braced on the doorframe beside her head, as if he needs a barrier to keep himself from getting too close.

Or maybe it's to keep her from running.

"This is it?" she whispers.

He hums. "For now."

She doesn't move.
He doesn't either.

The silence stretches and stretches until it becomes something solid — something hot and tense, coiling between them.

Kai tilts his head slightly, studying her profile.
He looks like he's memorizing it.
Or dissecting it.

"You're shaking," he murmurs.

"I'm cold."

"You're lying."
He steps closer, chest nearly pressed to her back. "But I'll let it pass."

His voice drips with satisfaction — the kind born from total awareness of another person's fear.

She finally forces herself to look into the room.
Dark wood, deep grey walls, heavy curtains.
Not a bedroom so much as a beautifully furnished cage.

Kai leans down, lips close to her ear.
"Make yourself comfortable."

She turns sharply, brushing against him.
He doesn't move.
His eyes flick down — not at her face.

Jen's pulse jumps.

Kai's smile is slow, poisonous.

"Careful," he says softly. "I'm trying very hard to be patient."

"Patient for what?" she breathes.

His expression shifts — something flickering in his eyes, something feverish.

"You already know," he answers.

Her stomach twists. "Kai—"

"Don't."
His voice turns sharp.
"I've been thinking about this for weeks. Months. Longer, honestly."

He finally steps back just enough for her to breathe, but not enough to feel safer.

"I brought you here," he says, "because we need privacy. Time. Space to... build things."
His smile widens.
"Start things."

"You mean your coven."

"My family," he corrects, eyes gleaming.
"Let's not pretend it's something else."

Jennifer's mouth goes dry.

He watches her reaction — drinks it in — then slowly walks into the room, brushing his fingers along the bedframe.

"You know what heretics can do, right?" he says lightly. "What we can create?"

"Don't."

"You asked."
He sits on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees.
"And I'm tired of dodging the subject."

Jen tries to back toward the hall.

Kai's eyes snap up. "Jennifer."

The way he says her name freezes her in place.

"Come here."

She shakes her head.

He rises.

It's slow — controlled — but the air changes instantly.

The temperature drops. The lights flicker.
It feels like the house itself recoils.

He steps toward her with the same calmness someone might use to approach a frightened animal — not gentle, but sure.