1.BOOM
1.BOOM
Pain.
Everything inside me was in pain.
Aching.
Twisting.
And I couldn’t even move it or make it go away. It was invisible, yet devastatingly effective.
“Are you okay, honeybun?”
My father’s voice pulled me out of the agony I was drowning in.
He sat beneath a tree with long, sprawling branches, a wooden bench nestled beneath its shade. Beside him sat a basket filled with my favorite candies and jellies.
“Paa…” I mumbled.
I didn’t know whether he heard me or not because he was still smiling at the kid who was now pouting at a bird that refused to fly.
That was me.
“Paa… this bird is not flying. It is dumb.”
The child’s words made my father chuckle. He gathered him into his arms and settled him onto his thigh.
And a sense of warmth spread through me. The kid was safe. I was safe because it was my Paa holding me.
The kid was still sulking at the bird for not flying. My father looked at him and spoke in a gentle voice.
“Stop sulking, honey. It will fly eventually.”
“Why not now? Look, I gave him all my food and water, but it still doesn’t fly. He is dumb,” the child ranted.
“Just because you offered something good to others doesn’t mean they are weak or dumb, honey. They just need time to warm up and do their magical things.”
My father stroked the kid’s hair as he spoke.
“Being a warlock is about having patience and remembering to wait, honeybun. Everything does its magic spells. And my boy is strong enough to wait for it, aren’t you?”
The question was directed at me as I stood in front of them.
My dad looked younger.
Softer.
Almost like the years had never touched him.
I just stood there and watched him, not daring to move an inch. Because if I did, I was afraid he would disappear.
Just like last time.
“Paa…”
“You need to wait, honeybun. You are strong.”
Tears welled up in my eyes as the kid and my father began to vanish into thin air.
No.
Not happening again. I ran towards them, desperately trying to catch my father’s hand.
The hand that taught me how to walk.
The hands that held me tighter whenever I was afraid.
The hands that taught me about magic and spells.
Now, they were vanishing into the air.
Like they had never been there.
I screamed.
I begged.
I called for him.
But he didn’t come back. Not like he usually did.
Instead, I was surrounded by heart-wrenching images of my father lying in a pool of his own blood.
He was dead.
“You’re strong, honeybun. You just need to wait.” My father’s words echoed around me, again and again.
No.
No, I am not strong.
I am not, Paa.
Please…
Come back.
“No, I am not…”
I screamed as I jolted upright in bed, panting heavily.
Instead of heavy darkness, a pale ray of light seeped in through the window.
Grey sheets. White curtains. Dark walls with no paintings.
Not even photographs.
His room.
It was mine too. Temporarily.
But it was never ours. I looked around the room carefully, panting and sweating as I searched for someone.
Someone I didn’t want to be here.
Someone who shouldn’t be here.
I took a long breath and reached for the glass of water beside me. Then, I glanced at my phone.
I had blacked out as soon as I nursed Naravit after his heat on that full-moon night. He was still unconscious, and somehow, this time, it felt strange.
Naravit was the brother of my unwanted nuisance. Therefore, the nuisance I called my husband.
Aou Thanaboon Akarawong.
My husband, whom I was forced to marry. The coldest, most spoiled bastard I had ever seen.
He was Narin’s obedient dog, and I hated that about him.
I hated everything about him.
It had been a year since I was married into this family, and I had never been treated with respect by him. He only ever saw me as a pawn in the little schemes orchestrated by his father.
They had forced my hand into this marriage.
At first, I refused. But after my father’s death, everything changed.
He married me because he needed a witch for his family—or rather, for his brother, who had been cursed by a powerful witch.
As a Lohitkul, a powerful warlock from the warlock clan, I was a jackpot. My father was the most powerful warlock and the leader of our witch clan.
He was always proud of me. And I was proud that he took pride in me.
But it all shattered after his death. And that was what brought me here, all the way to this family.
Naravit’s curse was never meant for him.
Poor Naravit.
He had been on a mission to find his mate, the one who carried a moon mark on his body. Because he was fated to that mate.
And despite everything, I was genuinely willing to help him.
As expected, Naravit also needed this mate to break his curse, and sometimes, he thought exactly like his brother.
But Naravit was different from my asshole husband.
They were worlds apart.
Literally.
“Good morning, brother-in-law.”
An excited voice chirped through the room, instantly lightening my mood.
Santa Pongsapak.
Aou’s second younger brother—and the only one who was remotely normal in this house.
The first time I came here after marrying Aou, Santa was the one who warmed up to me. He was kind, with a firm attitude, and I liked that about him.
Naravit was nice to me too, unlike his brother, who seemed capable of nothing but scowls and glares.
Sometimes, Naravit would even behave more clingily than necessary just to piss Aou off.
As I said, he was an asshole. Not only to me, but to his brothers too.
Naravit and Aou were never the kind of brothers who shared conversations or had brotherly moments.
They simply existed around each other.
Aou was a dog to Narin.
Naravit was a snake to Narin.
Don’t ask me why. That was simply how they were.
And in this one year of my marriage, I had learned only one thing for certain:
Naravit hated his father with everything in him.
Typical.
Not that I am blaming, I do to.
“Morning, Santa.” I attempted to give him a smile.
He came in carrying my favorite herbal tea, the one I had recently started drinking because I liked the taste of lavender, and it helped calm my nerves.
Santa placed the cup on the desk instead of handing it to me, then jumped onto the bed and reached for my forehead.
“No high temperature. No cold.” He confirmed it before removing his hand. “You are okay, Phi.”
“I am not dead yet.” He hit my shoulder lightly, and I chuckled.
“Don’t say things like that. My brother would be devastated without you.”
“So, is it okay if I am the one being devastated by being with him?”
“I mean… no… you guys are…”
I sipped my tea while looking at him, waiting for him to finish his sentence. Being an art student, he was addicted to those fiction stories and read that nonsense way too much.
“Don’t finish it. It will be bullshit.”
“Aw.” He pouted. “Come on, P’Boom. My brother stayed all night in this room.”
“So?”
“He took care of you all night.”
“Him? Taking care of me?”
He nodded.
“You must be delirious, Santa.” He rolled his eyes at my words.
“Did you see him taking care of me?”
“No. But I can assume…”
“Assumptions are never true, Santa. Stop reading those books, and you might start living in reality.”
I said it in my flattest tone.
“Okay, fine. Just so you know, the tea you are drinking is from him.”
Santa said it so casually that the liquid went down the wrong pipe, and I immediately started choking on my tea.
Santa’s lips twitched into a knowing smirk.
That was nonsense, right?
There was no way in hell he knew about this drink. Because I had picked it recently, and I had only drunk it once before him.
Only once.
So there was no fucking way.
“You are blabbering.” I pointed at Santa.
“I’m not. When I was preparing your usual coffee downstairs, our maid came with this tea and said it was ordered by P’Aou before he left the house. And he ordered all-lavender herbal tea powders and stocked them up in the kitchen.”
Santa wiggled his eyebrows at me with an I-told-you-so expression.
I gave him a mock glare. Because I wasn’t going to believe this.
Aou never did this kind of thing.
He never cared. Maybe it was just a coincidence. I wasn’t a fool who would fall for his charms like this.
Not that he was even trying to charm me.
Whatever.
“It must be a coincidence, and you are the one who was looking into it too deeply.”
“But—”
“This conversation is over.”
My voice was stern, and he shut his mouth immediately.
I loved him.
For sure.
But not when he spoke about his twat of a brother—the one who treated me like an insect beneath his shoe.
I knew the moment I saw him that I hated him.
I came here for a purpose, and that was the only thing that mattered.
As much as I loathed the head of this family, Narin, I had still found people here who loved me.
Aside from my Paa.
And the mere thought of him was enough to make me snap out of everything I had heard earlier.
The hate was safe.
I needed to do what I had come here to do.
No distractions.
Not about him.
Not for him.
