Chapter Three:The Storm Between Us
1008 Words
The Night of Reckoning
Lyia hadn’t wanted to listen.
She hadn’t wanted to hear Evelyn’s truth—hadn’t wanted to know that the one person Ronald was starting to trust was the daughter of the witch who had cursed him.
But she had heard. And now, she couldn’t unhear it.
The wind howled through the trees as she moved through the shadows, her blood roaring in her ears. Ronald had been inside the healer’s tent for too long. Too damn long.
Every second that passed, a dark, bitter emotion curled inside Lyia’s chest. Jealousy.
She wasn’t supposed to feel this way.
She had spent her entire life knowing she wasn’t meant for something soft. That fate had carved her path in blood and ruin, that she was better off alone.
And yet she couldn't stand it,
The moment she had seen Ronald kiss Evelyn’s wrist, seen the way his pain had vanished under her touch, something inside her had shattered.
She wasn’t enough for him.
Because Evelyn was his cure.
Lyia clenched her fists. She could still feel the heat of Ronald’s kiss on her lips, the way the bond had surged between them. But it hadn’t erased his pain.
I told you, Ronald. Her nails bit into her palm. You don’t want me.
She reached the healer’s tent, her heart hammering.
And then—
She heard his voice.
Low. Rough. Almost… gentle.
"You are not her, Evelyn. Whatever darkness is inside you—you control it. Not the other way around."
A pang of something sharp and unbearable lodged in Lyia’s chest.
She pushed past the tent flap before she could think better of it.
The moment she stepped inside, two pairs of eyes snapped toward her.
Evelyn looked guilty.
Ronald? He just looked angry.
Lyia ignored the ache in her chest, the fire licking at her skin. Her gaze locked on Evelyn.
"You lied to us." Her voice was like ice. "You lied to him."
Evelyn’s lips parted slightly, but she didn’t deny it.
She didn’t even try.
Lyia took a step forward, barely aware of the way Ronald’s body tensed. "How long were you planning to keep it from us?" she demanded. "Or were you going to wait until she came calling for you?"
Evelyn flinched, but something flickered in her eyes. Something stubborn.
"I wasn’t waiting for anything," she said quietly. "I’ve spent my entire life running from her."
Lyia’s laugh was sharp, bitter. "And yet, here you are—standing in the middle of her curse."
Evelyn lifted her chin. "I’m not my mother."
"Maybe not," Lyia shot back, stepping closer. "But she made you, didn’t she?"
A sudden gust of wind tore through the tent, shaking the candlelight.
For a heartbeat, Evelyn’s irises darkened, her golden and blue eyes flickering with something unnatural.
Lyia stiffened.
Then—just as quickly—it was gone.
Evelyn sucked in a sharp breath as if fighting something deep inside her.
And for the first time…
Lyia saw it.
The same fear that she had lived with for years.
Evelyn wasn’t just hiding a secret. She was terrified of it.
The realization sent a shiver through Lyia’s bones.
She had spent years believing she was the one touched by darkness. That her fate had been sealed the moment she was bound to the witch’s son.
But now… she was standing in front of someone who carried darkness even deeper.
Someone born from it.
The weight of it crashed into her, making her head spin.
Ronald, who had been silent this whole time, finally spoke.
"Enough."
His voice was deep, commanding, but not cruel.
Lyia turned to him sharply, but his stormy eyes were unreadable. "We don’t have time for this," he said. "The witch is still out there. And right now, she’s watching."
Evelyn went still. "How do you know?"
Ronald exhaled through his nose. "Because she wants me dead. And she wants to use you to do it."
Silence stretched between them.
Lyia’s mind raced.
She had spent years thinking she was the only one caught in the witch’s web. But Ronald was right. The witch was playing a bigger game.
And Evelyn was another piece on the board.
But what Lyia
couldn’t understand why Ronald was willing to trust her.
She narrowed her eyes. "What if she’s already under the witch’s control?"
Evelyn sucked in a sharp breath, but it was Ronald who answered.
"She’s not." His voice was firm. "And I won’t let her be."
Lyia froze.
There was something possessive in the way he said it, something that made her stomach twist.
Evelyn’s eyes widened slightly, but she said nothing.
And Lyia—Lyia hated it.
She hated how protective he sounded. How soft he had been with Evelyn when he had been nothing but fire and fury with her.
It made her reckless.
She turned to Ronald, meeting his gaze with a smirk. "Oh? And what exactly are you planning to do, Alpha?"
A muscle in his jaw twitched. "Whatever it takes."
The words sent a thrill down her spine.
She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "And if it takes breaking your little healer?"
His eyes darkened.
A sharp inhale from Evelyn.
And then—before anyone could stop her—Lyia reached for Ronald’s neckline, gripping the fabric and yanking him forward.
And she kissed him.
It was rough. Messy. Furious.
A challenge. A demand.
And for a single, shocking moment—Ronald kissed her back.
His hands came to her waist, fingers digging into her skin as if he wanted to pull her closer as if he was seconds from breaking.
But then—
He shoved her away.
Lyia stumbled back, her breath ragged, her lips tingling.
Ronald was seething.
Evelyn was stunned.
And Lyia?
She smiled.
"Careful, Alpha," she murmured, licking her lips. "You wouldn’t want to be cursed by another witch’s daughter."
She turned on her heel and disappeared into the night, leaving nothing but the echo of her own shattered heartbeat behind.
- Writer
