LOGIN“Who’s there?”My voice slices through the silence, steadier than I feel, the wooden branch firm in my grip despite the tremor threatening my fingers.For a heartbeat—nothing.Then—A presence.Not just movement.Presence.Heavy. Commanding. Impossible to ignore.And before I even see him—I feel him.A few steps behind me.I turn sharply, raising the branch—And freeze.“You.”The word leaves me like a breath I didn’t know I was holding.Kael steps out from the shadows, dressed in dark clothes that seem to belong to the night itself. His face is unreadable, but his eyes—They’re on me.Steady.Searching.Too aware.“Why are you here?” he asks.Just like that.No greeting. No pause. Just a question.And something in me—Breaks loose.I let the branch fall from my hand.It hits the ground, but the sound feels distant.“Why?” I repeat, a bitter laugh slipping past my lips as I take a step toward him. “Am I not allowed to be here now?”His brows draw together immediately. “No. That’s not
I don’t remember how I got here.One moment I’m walking—out the back, past the grounds, past the weight of everything that felt like it was closing in on me—and the next, I’m standing at the edge of the forest.And I don’t stop.I keep walking.Branches brush against me, leaves crunch softly beneath my feet, the scent of damp earth wrapping around me like something grounding, something real. The deeper I go, the quieter it gets. Or maybe the noise inside me is just louder.I don’t think.I don’t turn back.I just… move.Until the trees begin to thin and the river reveals itself—quiet, steady, indifferent.I step toward it slowly, my breath uneven, my chest tight in a way I don’t fully understand.Then I sit.Right at the edge, where the land dips slightly before meeting the water a few feet below.And I stay there.Time slips without asking.Minutes. Hours. I don’t know.I don’t track it.It feels like I’ve been placed here deliberately—like some quiet penance the Moon Goddess though
I have never felt this kind of hurt before—quiet, sharp, and humiliating in a way that seeps under your skin and settles where no one can see it.I don’t lift my eyes.Not when she walks toward me. Not when the air thickens with her presence. Not even when I can feel everyone watching.My fingers tighten slightly around the cake box, like it’s the only thing keeping me anchored.Her footsteps stop in front of me.“So,” Lumia says, her voice low, edged, unstable, “do you think you were successful?”I blink.Slowly.Confusion pulls my brows together as I finally look up at her. “What?”Her laugh is hollow.Bitter.“Don’t,” she snaps, her eyes flashing. “Don’t mistake me for a fool, Liora. I know exactly what you must have done.”Something inside me stills.“What are you talking about?” I ask, my voice quieter now, but steady.She steps closer.Too close.“You think I don’t see it?” she continues, her words tumbling over each other, fuelled by something far deeper than anger. “You think
Liora steps into the house with care, the cake balanced gently in her hands as though it carries something fragile beyond its form.The familiar space greets her quietly.Too quietly.Until she sees her.Tessa sits at the dining table, fingers loosely wrapped around a glass, her posture relaxed but her eyes alert. The moment she notices Liora, she looks up—and something soft flickers across her face.She rises immediately.No hesitation.No glance spared elsewhere.Jayden, a step behind Liora, notices.His gaze lingers on Tessa for a fraction longer than necessary—measured, unreadable. There is history there. Not loud, not acknowledged, but present.Tessa does not look at him.Not once.She walks straight to Liora.Liora exhales softly, placing the cake carefully on the table before turning fully toward her. “What are you doing here?” she asks, a quiet smile forming despite the lingering weight of the day.Tessa shrugs, like the answer should be obvious. “I didn’t want your mom to fee
The kitchen settles into a quiet rhythm soon after.There’s something grounding about it—the soft clink of bowls, the steady hum of the oven, the faint sweetness beginning to build in the air. Clair moves like she belongs here, like every corner already knows her, and I find myself falling into step beside her without thinking too much.“So,” she says, handing me a whisk, “areyou going to tell me how you landed here?”I let out a small breath, already smiling faintly. “I think that part’s… public knowledge at this point.”Clair glances at me, a flicker of understanding passing through her eyes. “The rejection.”I nod once.There’s no pity in her expression. No curiosity either.Just acknowledgement.Which, somehow, I appreciate more.“And?” she prompts, turning back to the bowl she’s working on.I hesitate for a second, then sigh softly. “And then came the university event.”“That sounds promising already,” she mutters.I huff out a quiet laugh. “It was supposed to be. Big presentatio
The kitchen feels different the moment I step in.Quieter than the hall. Warmer. Lived-in.There’s a faint smell of spices lingering in the air, something freshly chopped sitting on the counter, and the low hum of conversation drifting from somewhere deeper inside.I pause just at the entrance, fingers brushing the edge of the counter as I take a breath.Okay. Cake. Focus.But then—“…I’m telling you, it’s completely ill-fated.”I freeze.Voices.Two—no, three of them. Low, conspiratorial. The kind of tone people use when they *know* they shouldn’t be talking—but are enjoying it far too much to stop.I shouldn’t listen.I absolutely shouldn’t.…which is exactly why I don’t move.“How can someone like him be mated to someone like *her*?” another voice says, sharp with disbelief. “She doesn’t even know what being mated means.”There’s a soft scoff. “Exactly! It’s almost embarrassing. For him, I mean.”My stomach tightens.Oh.We’re talking about *me*.I stay still, barely breathing now.







