Fated To Three Betrayed By All Until She Rose (Leilani) by Ahvahh novel Chapter 108

**Healing Slowly But Surely**

**By R. Joseph**

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**A drunken confession.**

**Leilani.**

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**1**

“Kael…?” I hissed, instinctively stepping back as his fingers grazed my cheek again. The familiar touch sent a surge of anger coursing through me, and I stood there, simmering in my fury. His head tilted slightly, a foolish grin spreading across his face, his eyes glimmering with the kind of drunken joy that made my stomach churn.

“Yes, mate?” he slurred, that infuriating word rolling off his tongue like a careless joke.

That single word ignited a flicker of something deep within me, but I quickly squashed it down. “Why are you here?” I asked, my voice steady, though my heart raced.

His expression shifted, as if my question had jolted him from a stupor. He flashed a grin, one that felt too genuine for someone like him, and stumbled back to lean against my wall, his posture awkward yet oddly charming. “I came to see you,” he declared, crossing his arms over his chest, his gaze fixed on me with an intensity that made me uneasy.

The way his eyes roamed over my body sent a shiver down my spine. It was unsettling, stirring emotions in me that I couldn’t quite name, feelings that felt foolish and inappropriate.

I caught a glimpse of his face again, and despite reminding myself that this was Kael—Kael Stormborn, the reckless fool—I shook my head, trying to dispel the memories of the boy I had once crushed on. “And you’ve said that before…” I pointed out, scrunching my nose in distaste as he hiccuped, the sound grating on my nerves.

Pushing himself off the wall, he smiled at me again, almost losing his balance. “It’s important,” he muttered, his voice thick with sincerity.

And I knew I should be furious with him, but I couldn’t help it. Looking at him like this, with his carefree demeanor and the remnants of his arrogance stripped away, he appeared almost innocent.

Very handsome.

He resembled the boy I had secretly admired at twelve—the lanky teenager with dark, shimmering hair and beautiful eyes that made my heart flutter against my will.

But that boy was long gone.

With that painful thought echoing in my mind, I averted my gaze, blinking back the sudden tears that threatened to spill. “You can’t talk to me like this. You’re drunk,” I muttered, attempting to regain some semblance of control.

“I can,” he insisted, his tone stubborn.

“Kael, I need you to call your brothers. I need you to leave,” I began, but my words faltered as he grasped my shoulders with an intensity that nearly knocked me off balance.

For a fleeting moment, regret flickered across his features before he buried his face in the crook of my neck.

And goddess, I shouldn’t be reacting to this. My body shouldn’t be responding to something so foolish.

But it did.

It reacted far too eagerly.

Heat flooded my cheeks as his warm breath danced against my skin, his lips brushing the sensitive spot between my neck and shoulder.

In that instant, memories surged back—memories of what could have been had we accepted our bond as mates. The thought made my face burn even hotter.

I cleared my throat, trying to regain my composure.

“Kael…”

“Mhmn?” he murmured, his voice low and inviting.

“You need to go home. You stink, you’re drunk, and I don’t want to talk to you right now.”

At the sound of my voice, he pulled away slightly, his eyes locking onto mine with a purity that made my knees weak. His gaze traveled down my body, and I felt exposed, especially when he noticed the bruises encircling my wrist.

Before I knew it, he was gripping my wrist as if it were something foul, his expression contorting into one of anger and concern. “Who did this to you?” he demanded, his voice laced with a fierce protectiveness.

And that question snapped me back into reality. It jolted my brain awake, which had been teetering on the edge of madness just moments ago.

I followed his gaze to my wrist, and a wave of fury surged through me as I recognized the marks.

When he still didn’t speak or reveal whatever he was looking for, I rolled my eyes again, turning to grab my bag, ready to retreat into the safety of my home. Just as I was about to step inside, he called out excitedly, “I found it!”

I halted, turning around to see him clutching a red envelope in his hands. It was medium-sized, beautifully designed with intricate golden lines tracing its edges.

I sighed, my curiosity piqued. “So what’s that now, Kael?”

“It’s an invitation!” he exclaimed, a cheeky grin spreading across his face, though his eyes told a different story—one of darkness, loss, and fear.

That troubled me deeply.

“An invitation to what?” I asked, my heart racing.

“My wedding,” he drawled, then quickly corrected himself, “…our wedding. Our wedding with Chalice.”

Ladies and gentlemen, I had anticipated this day for so long. I had told myself I was ready for this moment, knowing it was inevitable ever since the engagement party four years ago.

So why did it still hurt?

Why did it feel as if my heart were being torn apart the moment those words left his lips?

My gaze darted from his face to the card in his hand, and it dawned on me that he was serious. They were really getting married to Chalice. This was real.

And this so-called good news was likely the reason I was currently battered and bruised.

A heavy weight settled in my chest, making even the simple act of breathing feel like an Olympic sport. My eyes stung, but I refused to let the tears fall. Instead, I forced a smile and murmured, “Congratulations.”

“Don’t congratulate me!” he snapped, causing me to frown in confusion.

“Why not?” I asked, bewildered.

“Because I don’t want to get married. I don’t want to do this. Because I want you.”

I froze, the weight of his words crashing over me like a tidal wave.