Betrayed By One. Bound To Three

Selena

I did not realize I was crying until the salt on my lips reminded me, until the tears slipped freely down my cheeks and my body felt impossibly heavy, as if the space around me had contracted into a cage.

The door had barely closed behind them, and the silence that followed pressed against my chest, suffocating, relentless, until I could barely breathe.

My legs trembled under me, as if they no longer belonged to me, and for a long moment I simply stood there, staring at the emptiness they had left behind.

Everything still felt like a bad dream.

Just moments ago, they had been so close I could feel them, their presence surrounding me, and for a moment I thought this was it, and that whatever has been broken between between us could be fixed.

Little did I know I had been so wrong.

The echo of their words, cold, sharp, and unforgiving, replayed endlessly in my mind, each repetition a cruel reminder of the truth I did not want to face.

"You have no idea how much we hate you," Kael had said, the certainty in his tone striking me with a force I could not counter, reverberating through every part of me as though he had carved it into my chest. "And soon you will understand what it takes to lose everyone and everything."

I sank to the ground without meaning to, my back pressing against the cold wall, my chest heaving as I tried to absorb the weight of their hatred.

Lose everything.

The thought wrapped around me like a vice, tightening until it seemed impossible to draw a full breath.

How had everything changed so quickly?

How had they gone from being close enough to touch to being merciless in their judgment?

My hands trembled as I pressed them against my face in a vain attempt to staunch the flow of tears, but nothing could stop them, and I did not even want to try.

"They are lying."

Lyra’s voice rose suddenly, sharper than I had ever heard it, cutting through the haze of my thoughts with an urgency that made my breath catch.

I squeezed my eyes shut, another wave of tears slipping free down my cheek.

"They are not," I whispered, my voice unsteady, fragile in a way I hated. "You heard them. You felt it."

"I felt something," she insisted, her tone firm, insistent, almost restless beneath the surface. "But it was not what they are pretending it is."

My brows pulled together faintly, confusion mixing with the ache in my chest.

"What do you mean?" I asked, though the question came out weaker than I intended.

"The bond," she said immediately. "It is wrong."

The words settled into me slowly, uneasily.

Wrong.

I let out a hollow breath, shaking my head as I dragged a hand across my face, wiping away tears that refused to stop.

"The only thing that is wrong," I said quietly, bitterness creeping into my voice, "is the fact that I believed they loved me."

"They do," Lyra said, more urgently now. "Or they did. I felt it. You felt it. That cannot disappear like this. Not all at once."

I laughed then, but the sound was hollow, broken in a way that made my chest tighten even more.

"You are wrong," I said, my voice trembling despite my attempt to steady it. "This is exactly how it disappears. This is exactly how it ends when it was never real to begin with."

"That is not true," she pushed, her presence pressing closer to mine now, restless, unsettled. "Something is interfering. The bond does not feel severed, but it is... distorted. Twisted. As though something is pushing against it."

Her words made something shift faintly in my chest, something I did not want to examine too closely.

"No," I said quickly, cutting her off before she could continue. "No more excuses for them. No more trying to make this something it is not. They have made their stand known. They never loved me. They only got together with me to punish me."

"They are your mates," she insisted softly. "You should go to them. Talk to them. This is not right."

"I am done."

The words came out sharper than I intended, but I did not take them back.

"I am done chasing after people who look at me like I am something to hate," I continued, my voice steadier now, even as my chest ached with every word. "I regret ever loving them. I regret ever trusting them."

Lyra fell silent then, but I could feel her sadness, feel the way she recoiled slightly from the finality in my tone.

"And what about the truth?" she asked after a moment, quieter now. "What if they are wrong about your father?"

My breath caught.

Images of him rose in my mind unbidden, his presence strong and unyielding, the way he had always carried himself, the way he had looked at me.

"They are wrong," I said, but this time the words did not come as easily as before.

"Then why are they so certain?" Lyra pressed gently. "Why does it feel like they believe it completely?"

The question lingered.

Unanswered.

Uncomfortable.

I shook my head, pushing the thought away before it could take root.

"It does not matter," I said, my voice tightening. "Nothing they said matters anymore."

And yet, even as I said them, a part of me, the part that still remembered the warmth of their closeness, quivered.

The silence that followed was suffocating, yet in it, something inside me seemed to settle, a small part of me recognizing the truth in the hardness of my own words.

Then, as if to confirm every cruel word I had ever feared, the thought of Silas struck me like another blow. He had taken the throne, and my father’s kingdom was no longer mine to protect, no longer mine to claim.

My chest tightened with guilt, a sharp, unbearable ache that left me trembling in place. I had failed him. That truth lodged itself in my bones, cold and undeniable.

They had been right about one thing: I had no one. And the knowledge wrapped itself around me like a cloak I could not shed.

Exhaustion, grief, and shame pulled me under until sleep claimed me, and I sank into darkness, tears still trailing down my cheeks.