Chapter 9 Midnight Confessions

The moon hung low in the sky, casting its pale light over the dense forest that surrounded the cabin. The night was alive with the rustling of leaves and the soft calls of nocturnal creatures, but beneath the surface, there was a tension that seemed to thrum through the air. Lyra stood in the clearing, her breath shallow, her heart pounding with the chaotic energy surging through her. Kaidën was close—too close. But he wasn’t touching her. Not yet. His golden eyes were dark, filled with something unreadable. Something she couldn’t quite grasp—but could feel deep inside her. It was the pull between them—the same magnetic force that had drawn them together since the moment they met. But tonight, it was different. Raw. Almost dangerous. The moonlight reflected off his skin, making him seem more… otherworldly. He stood with his arms crossed, every muscle in his body tense, his gaze unwavering as he watched her. > “You’re still fighting it,” he said, his voice low and rough like it was dragged from deep within him. “I’m not fighting anything,” she retorted, but her voice was unsteady, betraying her. She took a step forward, closer to him, even though everything in her screamed to step back. To maintain some distance. But the pull was stronger than the instinct to run. > “You are.” Kaidën’s voice softened, almost tender, though it held an edge. He stepped closer, closing the gap between them. > “You’re scared.” “I’m not scared,” Lyra whispered—but it was a lie. Her skin burned with an unnatural heat, and she could feel her pulse echoing in her ears. Something was shifting within her. Something dark and wild. Something she didn’t know how to control. > “You are,” Kaidën repeated, his voice thick with emotion. He reached for her, one hand grazing her cheek. His touch was like fire against her skin. His eyes searched hers like he was looking for something only he could see. She stiffened but didn’t pull away. There was something in his gaze—something possessive, something primal. A need that mirrored her own. And then— As if summoned by the force of their connection, Elijah emerged from the shadows. His dark eyes gleamed in the moonlight, his expression unreadable. His presence was like the calm after a storm—cool, distant, and dangerous in its own way. > “Don’t,” Elijah’s voice was a warning. Low. Steady. Kaidën’s gaze flicked to him, his posture rigid. > “This isn’t your fight.” > “It is,” Elijah replied, sharp as a blade. He didn’t move closer, but the air between them crackled with tension. Heightening. Thickening. > “She’s not yours to claim, Kaidën.” Lyra’s chest tightened. She wanted to say something—anything—but the words wouldn’t come. She could feel the storm between the two men brewing. And she couldn’t help but feel like the eye of it. Her heart hammered. But it wasn’t just fear. It was the pull she felt toward both of them. The intensity. The heat. > “Elijah, don’t—” she started. But Kaidën’s hand shot out, curling around her wrist and pulling her toward him. > “Stay out of this,” Kaidën growled, voice rough with warning and something deeper. Something dangerous. The force of his grip sent a shiver through her. Her breath caught. She felt his power—raw, unrestrained—and it shook her to her core. But beneath it was something else. A need to protect. A need to claim. For a moment, everything else faded. It was just Kaidën and her. The forest disappeared into shadows. His gaze locked on hers, intense enough to make her knees weak. The pull between them was undeniable. Elijah took a step forward, jaw clenched. > “You think this will make her yours?” Kaidën’s grip tightened. > “She’s mine in ways you don’t understand.” The words landed like a declaration of war. Lyra’s heart raced. And for the first time, she wasn’t sure who she wanted to belong to. Kaidën’s fire? Elijah’s quiet intensity? Both men pulled at something deep inside her. Something wild. Something untamed. A surge of emotion—raw, uncontrollable—washed over her. And before she could stop herself, she leaned forward. Her lips brushed Kaidën’s. The kiss was desperate. And desperate to stop. Her body wanted it. Needed it. But her mind screamed at her to pull away. Kaidën’s lips moved against hers—possessive, demanding. She didn’t know how to pull back. She couldn’t. She didn’t want to. Then— A growl sliced through the night. Lyra jerked back, her heart pounding. Her breath came in jagged gasps. Elijah stood there, fists clenched, gaze dark and unreadable. > “Stop.” Just one word. Barely a whisper. But it cut through the clearing like lightning. Kaidën stepped back, his golden eyes flashing with something feral. He looked at Lyra—his gaze softening, just for a breath—then turned to Elijah. > “This isn’t over,” he said, voice thick with meaning. Elijah didn’t respond. He turned and vanished into the shadows, his presence lingering like a storm waiting to break. Lyra was left standing there, chest heaving, her mind a whirlwind. She had kissed Kaidën. She had felt his power. His need. And part of her had wanted it. But Elijah—his eyes, the way he watched her—left her questioning everything. The moon hung high above, casting silver light over the clearing. And Lyra knew, deep down, she had crossed a line tonight. There was no going back.