CHAPTER 418: REMEMBER ME?

Katrina~

I couldn’t believe it was real. After all the agony, the endless nights of wondering if I’d ever see him again, here we were, tangled in each other’s arms in that ethereal room carved from living wood. The walls pulsed faintly with a soft, golden glow, like the tree itself was breathing in sync with us. Rayma had just made his announcement—something about needing to speak with the adults privately—and they filed out without much fuss, leaving just the four of us: me, Vincent, Nicholas, and Winter.

I turned back to Vincent, my heart swelling with joy. A bright smile spread across my face as I nestled closer, inhaling the familiar scent of him—shadows and spice, with a hint of something wild and untamed. "Vincent," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion, "I can’t even tell you how much I’ve missed this. Being here, with you. It feels like a dream finally coming true after all that nightmare."

He blinked at me, his dark eyes—those endless pools of midnight—flickering with a mix of confusion and tentative warmth. His hand, still intertwined with mine under the covers, squeezed gently, but there was a hesitation in it, like he was testing the waters. "Katrina... right?" he said softly, his voice polite, almost formal, lacking the usual edge of calculation that made him so dangerously charming. "I’m glad you’re here too. You make this all feel... less strange."

I laughed lightly, propping myself up on one elbow to look at him better. His hair was tousled, falling over his forehead in that effortlessly alluring way, and his skin seemed paler than I remembered, as if the coma had drained some of his demonic vitality. But he was alive, breathing, holding me. That was all that mattered. Or so I thought. "Less strange? Come on, Vincent, you’ve always thrived on strange. Remember that time in the forest when you pulled me into the shadows and we—"

He tilted his head, a faint smile playing on his lips, but his brows furrowed. "Forest? I... I’m sorry, I don’t. But it sounds nice. You’re really pretty when you laugh like that, you know?"

Pretty? The word hung in the air like a misplaced note in a symphony. Vincent, Star, whatever name he hid behind—didn’t call people "pretty." He ensnared them with words like "exquisite" or "irresistible," laced with that predatory charm that made your pulse race. I felt a tiny flicker of unease, but I brushed it aside. We’d both just woken from comas; delirium was par for the course. My own head still throbbed faintly, memories of the battle and the curse swirling like fog. I glanced over at Nicholas and Winter, who were perched on the edge of a nearby vine-woven chair. Nicholas’s black hair was disheveled, his dark eyes wide with something I couldn’t quite place, while Winter’s pale features were etched with shock, her hands clenched in her lap.

"Nick, Winter, you two look like you’ve seen a ghost," I teased, trying to lighten the mood. "What’s with the faces? We’re all back together—well, almost. Vincent’s finally back in my arms!"

Nicholas cleared his throat, his cocky grin faltering as he leaned forward. "Yeah, Kat, about that... Vin, man, you recognize us, right? It’s me, Nicholas. Your sister’s mate? And Winter—your actual sister?"

Vincent’s gaze shifted to them, polite curiosity replacing the warmth he’d shown me. He sat up a bit straighter, wincing slightly as if his body protested the movement. "Sister? Mate?" He looked at Winter, studying her with detached interest. "You do look familiar... like a dream I can’t quite grasp. And you," he nodded at Nicholas, "you seem... trustworthy? I’m sorry, everything’s a bit fuzzy. But it’s nice to meet you both. Properly, I mean."

Nice to meet you? The words hit me like a splash of cold water. Vincent wasn’t "nice." He was calculating, ambitious, the kind of guy who could charm a snake out of its skin while plotting its demise. And polite? To Nicholas, of all people? The two had clashed like thunder and lightning from the moment their paths crossed, bound by the twisted fate of Winter’s mating bond. I sat up fully now, my hair falling over my shoulders as I stared at him. "Vincent, what are you talking about? You know them. Winter’s your sister— you love her so much that it was annoying sometimes. And Nick... well, you’ve threatened to rip his throat out more times than I can count, but that’s just your way of saying hello."

He chuckled softly, a sound so genuine and light it sent a chill down my spine. No undertone of menace, no hidden agenda. Just... amusement. "Rip his throat out? That doesn’t sound like me. I mean, I don’t think? But if I did, I’m sorry about that, Nicholas. No hard feelings?"

Nicholas’s jaw dropped, his vampire-werewolf hybrid speed forgotten as he just gaped. "Dude... what the hell? You’re apologizing? To me? Kat, something’s off. This isn’t Vincent. This is like... pod-person Vincent. Polite edition."

Winter’s eyes widened, her cold, vengeful facade cracking as she reached out tentatively toward her brother. "Vincent... Vaelthor... it’s me. Winter. We grew up together in the shadows. Mother, she taught us how to weave nightmares when we were little. You remember that, don’t you? The games we played in the dark realms before..." Winter trailed off, sadness shimmering in her eyes.

Vincent’s expression softened, but there was no spark of recognition, just that same polite confusion. "Winter... that’s a beautiful name. It suits you. And nightmares? Sounds intense. I wish I could remember. But hey, if we’re family, that’s great. Family’s important, right?"

I felt my stomach twist, a knot of dread forming as the pieces clicked into place. But no, it couldn’t be. Not after everything. I swallowed hard, forcing a smile. "Okay, enough with the amnesia act, Vincent. It’s not funny. Remember when you rejected me? Four months ago, right before you vanished. You said something about our parents—my parents and yours. What did you mean by that? Why push me away like that?"

He blinked, his hand slipping from mine as he processed my words. The room seemed to hold its breath, the faint rustle of leaves overhead the only sound. "Rejected you? Katrina, I... I don’t know what you’re talking about. And parents? Mine are... wait, do I have parents?" He rubbed his temples, wincing. "This is all so confusing. But you—you feel important. Like someone I should know. You’re beautiful, and your eyes... they’re like the sky after a storm. Blue and clear."

Beautiful. Pretty. The compliments were sweet, but they weren’t him. Not the Vincent who’d whispered promises of revenge in my ear while kissing me breathless, the one whose love had ignited a fire in me that threatened to burn down kingdoms. This Vincent was a shell—a confused guy who thought I was pretty, nothing more. No shared history, no forbidden passion, no memories of our stolen moments under the stars. My chest ached, a sharp, emotional stab that made my eyes burn with unshed tears.

"Oh gods," I whispered, my voice breaking as I pulled back slightly. "You really don’t remember. Any of it. Me, us... nothing."

Nicholas shot to his feet, his brooding arrogance giving way to genuine alarm. "Kat, he’s got amnesia. Full-blown. He didn’t even flinch when I mentioned Winter being his sister. And polite? Vincent polite? That’s like a cat deciding to fetch. Winter, say something—tell me I’m not crazy."

Winter’s face paled further, her enigmatic poise shattering as she stood, her hands trembling. "Brother... you truly don’t know me? After everything we’ve endured? The promise we made to Mother?"

Vincent looked between us, his charm now laced with vulnerability. "Promise? Mother? This sounds like a dream. I’m sorry, everyone. I wish I could remember. But right now, all I know is that being here with you—all of you—feels right. Katrina, especially. If I hurt you before, I didn’t mean to. Can we start over? Tell me everything."

Start over? The words echoed in my mind like a cruel joke. I stared at him, my fiercely independent spirit crumbling under the weight of this revelation. All those months I’d cried myself to sleep, replaying his rejection over and over—his words about my parents being the cause of his problems, how our love wasn’t meant to be. I’d agonized over his disappearance, imagining him out there sad and hating me, maybe even thinking of me in stolen moments. But no. He’d been here, in this peaceful place, his mind wiped clean. Not thinking of me at all. The worry, the waiting, the heartache—it had all been one-sided. He’d forgotten me entirely.

Tears welled up, hot and unbidden, as I fought to keep my voice steady. "Start over? Vincent, you have no idea what that means. I loved you—love you—with everything I have. My family, my kingdom, they all warned me away, but I chose you. And now... now you’re just a stranger who thinks I’m pretty?"

Nicholas stepped closer, his magnetic presence a comfort as he placed a hand on my shoulder. "Kat, breathe. We’ll figure this out. Maybe it’s temporary. Rayma or your uncles—they can fix this."

Winter nodded, though her vengeful eyes softened with rare vulnerability. "He’s right. Vincent—my brother—you’re not yourself. But we’ll bring you back. For all our sakes."

Vincent reached for my hand again, his touch gentle, pleading. "Katrina, please. I may not remember the past, but I feel something now. Let me prove it. Tell me our story. From the beginning."

I hesitated, my heart torn between duty and this forbidden love that now felt even more impossible. The room’s soft light seemed to dim, shadows creeping in as if echoing my turmoil. How could I face this? A war loomed, bonds tested, and now, the man I adored was lost in his own mind. But as our eyes locked—his confused, mine aching—I felt that spark, faint but thrilling. Maybe, just maybe, we could rebuild. Or maybe this was the end before it truly began.