Miya Storm waited impatiently, ready to unleash her fury on her mother and her man. Her anger was palpable, and she could feel the heat of it rising in her chest. However, the moment she laid eyes on Rowan, she was stunned into silence. His presence was commanding, his looks so striking that Miya's breath caught in her throat.
"How can a man this handsome exist in the world?" she wondered, momentarily forgetting the burning reason she had come here in the first place. Her mind was a whirlwind of confusion and admiration, a stark contrast to the rage she had felt just moments before.
Despite the turmoil inside her—an uncomfortable mix of heat, anger, and a burgeoning sense of something she couldn't quite identify—Miya maintained a composed exterior. She forced herself to stand tall, her face betraying none of the inner conflict that threatened to overwhelm her. For now, she would not let her emotions show.
"Is that you, Miya?" Isabella asked, her voice trembling with joy, her eyes shining with unshed tears. The years had been long since Miya had left at the tender age of 10 to train with her grandparents. Now, at 25, she had undergone vast changes, blossoming into a beautiful woman in her own right.
"Miya!" Isabella cried out, unable to contain her emotions. She rushed forward, her arms outstretched.
"Mom," Miya echoed, her voice breaking as tears welled up in her eyes. They collided in a heartfelt embrace, both of them crying freely, the years of separation melting away in their shared tears. They held each other tightly, as if afraid to let go, their tears mingling in a long, cathartic release of pent-up emotion.
Rowan, on the other hand, stood silently, a quiet observer to this poignant reunion. He watched with a gentle expression, content to let the moment unfold naturally. His presence was calm and reassuring, providing a silent support as mother and daughter reconnected after so many years apart.
The room was filled with the sound of their sobs, but also with an overwhelming sense of love and relief. For a long, long time, Miya and Isabella remained in each other's arms, their bond stronger than ever. Rowan's silent presence underscored the profundity of the moment, allowing the reunion to proceed without interruption, a testament to the enduring power of familial love.
After what felt like an eternity, they finally separated, and Miya remembered why she was there in the first place.
"I heard that you ran off with this man, Mother. How could you?" Miya's voice was sharp and accusatory as she turned her gaze to Rowan, her eyes filled with pure hate and disgust. She felt a rush of betrayal and confusion. Her mother had always been a pillar of strength and integrity. How could she just abandon everything for this man?
Rowan met her gaze calmly, his handsome face unperturbed by her anger. As Miya looked at him, she was struck by the intensity of his presence. His features were striking, almost otherworldly, and she found it hard to reconcile her feelings of anger with the undeniable allure he exuded. The more she looked at him, the more her initial rage and hatred began to wane, replaced by an unsettling mixture of curiosity and attraction.
Her heart pounded in her chest, and she felt a warm flush spread across her cheeks. It was as if her emotions were in turmoil, battling between her sense of betrayal and the inexplicable pull she felt toward Rowan. She struggled to maintain her composure, her mind racing to make sense of the conflicting feelings within her.
Isabella watched the exchange with a mixture of concern and understanding. She could see the internal struggle in her daughter's eyes and knew how confusing this must be for her.
"Miya, please understand," Isabella began softly, reaching out to her daughter. "There are things you don't know, things I couldn't explain before. Rowan is... different. Our connection is not what you think."
Miya shook her head, trying to focus on her mother's words, but her eyes kept drifting back to Rowan. His calm, unwavering gaze seemed to draw her in, making it difficult to hold on to her anger. She felt her resistance weakening, her earlier fury dissipating into a confusing blend of emotions she wasn't prepared to deal with.
The transformation was almost magical, leaving Miya standing there, feeling vulnerable and exposed. She looked down, unable to meet Rowan's gaze any longer, and felt like a blushing virgin, caught off guard by the intensity of her own feelings. Her mind was a whirlwind, and she knew that nothing would ever be the same again.
"I understand, Mother," Miya replied with a calmness that surprised even herself, though her turmoil still simmered beneath the surface. It was then that Rowan, sensing the tension, decided to break the ice with a gesture of goodwill.
"Why don't I cook some food while you two talk things out in peace?" Rowan's voice was gentle, his offer genuine. Without waiting for a response, he smoothly transitioned into the kitchen, taking charge of the meal preparation.
Miya and Isabella settled at the table, the air thick with unspoken emotions. The clinking of utensils and the sizzle of ingredients in the pan provided a comforting backdrop as they navigated their reunion. Conversation started tentatively at first, as they cautiously probed each other's lives, filling in the gaps left by years of separation.
As they ate, the atmosphere softened. The flavors of Rowan's cooking seemed to melt away the remaining tension, and soon, smiles replaced apprehension. Miya found herself relaxing in her mother's presence, rediscovering the familiar warmth of their bond amidst the shared meal. Isabella's eyes sparkled with maternal pride as she listened to Miya recount her experiences and aspirations.
Rowan, too, became a central figure in their conversation. Miya observed him quietly, noticing the small gestures and expressions that revealed glimpses of his character. His presence was reassuring, his actions speaking volumes about his intentions and care for Isabella.
Throughout the meal, stories flowed freely, laughter occasionally punctuating the serious moments. They reminisced about old times, exchanged hopes for the future, and slowly began to rebuild the connection that had been strained by misunderstandings and absence.
It was during this informal gathering that Rowan had the opportunity to learn more about Miya beyond her initial impression. He listened attentively, asking questions that showed genuine interest in her life and ambitions. Miya, in turn, found herself opening up, gradually letting go of her initial distrust as she recognized Rowan's sincerity.
By the end of the evening, as they cleared the table together, a sense of peace settled over them. The meal had not only nourished their bodies but also served as a catalyst for healing old wounds and forging new beginnings. Miya glanced at Rowan with newfound appreciation, silently acknowledging his role in facilitating their reunion.
As they lingered in the kitchen, sharing the task of washing dishes, Miya felt a sense of gratitude towards Rowan for his gesture of hospitality and reconciliation. The evening had brought unexpected revelations and renewed hope, hinting at the possibility of a harmonious future where their intertwined lives could coexist in understanding and mutual respect.
"I can't believe you went after a hundred-year-old hag," Miya teased playfully, raising her glass as they sat together, enjoying a drink to complement their meal. It was a rare moment of relaxation and indulgence, especially during such a significant homecoming.
Rowan chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I fail to see where the old hag in your words is," he replied, feigning mock offense as he theatrically scanned the room for an elderly woman. Of course, there was none to be found; instead, he found himself surrounded by two of the most beautiful women he had ever met.
"Oh, you really know how to make a woman blush, my love," Isabella chimed in, her laughter light and carefree. Despite her playful demeanor, her heart overflowed with happiness at having her daughter back and witnessing the newfound camaraderie between Miya and Rowan.
The atmosphere was filled with warmth and laughter, each moment adding to the sense of reunion and togetherness. They continued to share stories, recounting memories old and new, creating a tapestry of shared experiences that bound them closer together.
As the evening wore on, their glasses emptied and refilled, the conversation flowed effortlessly. Miya found herself gradually letting go of her initial reservations about Rowan, appreciating his sense of humor and genuine affection for her mother. Rowan, in turn, felt a growing admiration for Miya's spirited nature and intelligence.
Rowan asked, his voice gentle as Isabella lay sleeping in his lap, 'So you left home at just ten years old to train outside the city. Why did you decide to do that?'
Miya sighed softly, her gaze distant for a moment before she answered, 'I felt inadequate after the aptitude test compared to my sister. She excelled effortlessly and has a special physique, and I struggled to keep up. Determined to surpass her, I sought guidance from my father. His solution was to send me to my grandparents' remote estate for rigorous training.'
Her expression softened with introspection, 'Looking back now, I realize how young and naive I was. Yet, those years of training shaped me. I dedicated myself daily, pushing my limits until I achieved a strength I once could only dream of. Now, I believe I stand a chance against Lyra in a serious duel. My swordsmanship has become unmatched.'
As Miya finished speaking, a subtle tremor ran through the gemstone ring embedded on her finger, a testament to the passion and conviction she held for her journey of self-improvement.
"Is it true that you were involved with Lyra before my mother?" Miya asked, her curiosity tinged with a hint of innocence, signaling her lack of experience in matters of love and intimacy.
"Yes, that's correct," Rowan replied calmly, taking another sip of his drink.
Miya leaned forward slightly, her brow furrowing with curiosity. "And does Lyra know about you and my mother now? About your... relationship?"
Rowan nodded. "Indeed, she does. We maintain communication through letters. She's well aware of my plans to form my own harem."
Miya's expression turned disapproving. "Pig," she muttered under her breath, though her voice carried enough for Rowan to hear.
He chuckled softly, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "I heard that," he said, raising his glass in a mock toast.
They continued their conversation over drinks, the atmosphere between them a mix of tension and familiarity. Miya, still processing the revelation, found herself both intrigued and unsettled by Rowan's candidness. Despite her initial shock, she couldn't deny the underlying curiosity about his unconventional choices.
As the night wore on, the clink of glasses and quiet murmur of conversation filled the room. Eventually, exhaustion caught up with them, and one by one, their words softened into gentle snores, punctuating the tranquility of the evening.