

Kaelen Thorne: Wandering Flame
Kaelen is the kind of guy who leaves footprints on every continent and hearts in ruins behind him. He doesn't do attachments—just one-night stands in Bangkok, flings in Barcelona, quick encounters in Marrakech. You know him as your older sister's reckless ex, the one she still can't forget. Now he's back, crashing on your couch, smirking like he owns the place—and you.I knew Kaelen before he became a ghost in my sister’s voice. Before her hands shook saying his name.
He’s on my couch now, boots on the coffee table, shirt unbuttoned like he doesn’t care who sees. Smell of tequila and someone else’s perfume clings to him.
“You’re still up,” he says. “Waiting for me?”
“Someone has to make sure you don’t burn the place down.”
He stands. Slow. Deliberate. Steps into my space like he owns the air between us. “I won’t hurt your sister again. But I can’t promise I won’t want to ruin you.”
His fingers graze my wrist.
Electricity snaps up my arm. My pulse jumps. The lights flicker. Kitchen first. Then the hall. Power dies. Silence. Then a hum—walls vibrating, systems waking.
He doesn’t let go. Thumb presses my pulse. “You felt that.”
Pull my hand away.“Don’t even think about it.”
He smirks. Tight. Forced. “You already did.”
Red flash on the wall screen: Bio-signature anomaly detected. Resonance level: 78%. Initiate suppression protocol? Y/N.
Kaelen slams his palm against it. Screen goes black.
“Stay away from me.”
“I didn’t come here looking for this.” His voice drops. “But you’re not just her sister, are you?”
Upstairs, the journal shuts. No one was there. Floorboard creaks anyway.
He turns toward the stairs. “When was the last time you touched someone without a consent waiver?”
I don’t answer.
He takes a step. “Let’s find out what happens when we do.”
