---
Zalria's footsteps echoed sharply against the cold stone floor as she paced back and forth in the dim chamber. Her dark eyes blazed with fury, the storm outside reflecting the tempest in her heart. Her powers—ancient and wild—were beginning to surge, threatening to unravel her if she didn't perform the sacred coming-of-age rituals soon. But Nathaniel was still sick, and no cure had been found.
She stopped by the window, hands pressed hard against the glass, glaring out at the rain. "I can't wait here any longer," she hissed, voice trembling with frustration. "My people expect me. I need to return home and claim what's rightfully mine before this power consumes me."
Lyren's figure stood quietly in the corner, his jaw tight. When he spoke, his voice was heavy with conflict. "You're not going anywhere, Zalria. Nathaniel's life depends on us. We need to stay."
Zalria whirled around, eyes flashing like daggers. "And what about me?" Her voice cracked with desperation, but there was venom underneath. "What am I supposed to do—wait around while you chase after a girl who's manipulating you?"Lyra lounged nearby, pretending not to listen, but her smile was sly and calculating. Without looking, she let her hand drift to rest lightly on Lyren's arm, squeezing ever so slightly.
Zalria's chest tightened. A poisonous wave of jealousy surged through her, tightening her throat and turning her skin cold. She hated the way Lyren's eyes softened when they looked at Lyra, hated how easily he laughed at her jokes, hated how Lyra's presence seemed to pull him away from everything else.
"Do you even care about me anymore?" Zalria spat, voice thick with bitterness. "Or are you too blind to see what she's doing? She's using you—"
Lyren's gaze flickered between them, torn and raw. His heart hammered in his chest in a way Zalria hadn't seen before. "Zalria, it's not like that... I don't know what I feel. But there's something about her—"
Lyra leaned closer, her voice low and honeyed. "It's called attraction, darling. You can fight it, or you can enjoy it."
Zalria's eyes narrowed dangerously. Hatred burned beneath her words. "She's poison. You're falling for a traitor, a liar. And when she betrays you, don't come crying to me."
Lyren's breath hitched as if caught between two storms. He looked at Lyra, then back to Zalria. "I don't want to lose either of you."Lyra's fingers traced lazy circles on his arm, her smile widening. "You don't have to choose... yet."
Zalria's fists clenched so tightly her nails dug into her palms. "You think I'll stand by and watch you slip away? I won't. Not without a fight."
Lyren's eyes darkened with guilt and confusion. "I... I'm sorry, Zalria. But my feelings for her—they're real. I don't know what's happening to me."
Zalria's voice dropped to a whisper, thick with both pain and fury. "Then maybe you're not the man I thought you were."
The room felt electric, every breath heavy with unsaid words and burning emotions. Outside, the thunder roared like the war raging in their hearts.
---
Zalria's lips trembled. She had held it in for too long. The pride, the pain, the jealousy—it all cracked under the weight of her breaking heart.
"You don't understand," she whispered, voice brittle. "I've been here... every step of the way. I've protected you, stood by you when no one else dared. I believed in you, Lyren. I believed in us."
Lyren froze. Zalria stepped forward, tears spilling freely now, trailing hot down her cheeks.
"We were meant to be married," she choked. "Back in the palace, everything was already set. The crowns, the promise, our future. I waited. I waited patiently for you to see me—not just as your betrothed, but as someone who loves you... who has *always* loved you."
Her voice cracked as her knees buckled slightly. "Why wasn't that enough? Why wasn't *I* enough?"
Lyren's face paled, guilt washing over him like a cold tide.
"I gave up everything to follow you here," she sobbed. "My throne, my mother's trust, my birthright... for you. And what do I get? Watching you fall for someone else? Someone you just met?"
Lyra stayed quiet, though her smug smile had faded.
Zalria stepped closer to Lyren, her hand on his chest, trembling. "Please… just love me. For once. Not because they told you to… but because you want to."
Lyren's jaw clenched. His heart ached, torn in ways he never imagined. But he said nothing.
Zalria slowly pulled her hand back, her expression hollow. Her voice dropped to a whisper—bitter, broken, final.
"She's the other woman, Lyren."
And with that, she turned away, tears falling like shattered glass.