The storm swallowed them whole... rain slashing like knives, thunder echoing the war drums above.

Anaya clung to Riyan’s hand as they darted through the forest. His grip was steel, but his eyes… his eyes were a battlefield of fury and desire.

Riyan (in low voice): “They have your mother. If they erase our bond, you’ll forget me. You’ll never know what we had-what we are.”

Anaya (breathless): “Then fight it. Make me remember, no matter what they do.”

Riyan’s eyes darkened, torn between fury and desire. And then, he kissed her.

It wasn’t gentle. It was wildfire hungry, desperate, defiant against the gods themselves. His lips claimed hers, his hands tangled in her soaked hair, pulling her closer as if the world outside no longer existed.

She melted into him, into the heat of a love she wasn’t supposed to feel. Her pulse thundered in time with the storm, her body trembling not from fear, but from wanting more, always more.

But just as the fire consumed them, a voice slithered through the shadows.

Mira: “Touching. Truly. Do you want me to tell you the part he didn’t?”

Anaya tore herself from Riyan’s embrace, her heart lurching. From the far end of the temple, Mira stepped into the torchlight. Her cloak dripped with rain, her dagger gleamed like a fang, and her smile was sharper still.

Riyan (snarling): “You followed us.”

Mira (mocking): “Oh, please. Did you really think you could outrun me? You should know better, Riyan.”

Her gaze slid to Anaya, cold and calculating.

Mira: “The ritual isn’t just to erase your bond. It’s to forge a new one. One they’ve been planning long before you ever laid eyes on her.”

Anaya’s breath caught.

Anaya: “What… what do you mean?”

Mira’s eyes softened- mock sympathy, laced with venom.

Mira: “He didn’t tell you? Of course he didn’t. He was mine, Anaya. Promised to me. Bound by oath before you even knew his name. You weren’t chosen—you were a distraction. A mistake.”

The words sliced sharper than any blade. Anaya’s knees weakened, her stomach twisting. She turned to Riyan, searching his face for denial, for truth, but his silence was thunder.

Anaya (hoarse): “Tell me she’s lying.” Riyan’s jaw clenched. His silence stretched into eternity.

Mira (smiling like a victor):

“There it is. He won’t deny it. Because deep down, you already knew. Forbidden love always comes with a price, sister. And you’re about to pay it.”

Lightning flashed again, painting Mira in silver light, the image of a betrayer and a bride of fate.

Riyan finally stepped forward, sword drawn, his voice low and raw.

Riyan: “Whatever promises they made, whatever chains they tried to shackle me with, I broke them the moment I touched her. You hear me, Mira? She is mine. Not you. Not ever you.”

Mira laughed, the sound echoing like shattered glass. Mira: “Bold words, lover. But when the ritual binds your soul to mine, I wonder… will you still say that while she’s forgotten your name?”

The storm outside howled, as if the gods themselves waited for Anaya’s choice.

Would she believe Riyan’s fire or Mira’s venomous truth?

And in that moment, Anaya realized: the true betrayal might not have happened yet.