"Daddy, why are you trying to scare me?" Britney's voice wobbled, though she tried to keep her composure. "I'm eighteen now, obviously."
Wyatt didn't answer. He just stared, his lips pressed into a tight line, his body rigid with barely contained fury. The room pulsed with tension, the silence stretching unbearably—until Beth sauntered into the lounge like she owned the place, her steps smooth, deliberate. Controlled.
Britney's reaction was instant. "Mom!" she shrieked, rushing to Beth like a child seeking sanctuary. She gripped her mother tight, as if that alone could shield her.
Beth barely reacted, casting a puzzled glance at her daughter before shifting her gaze to Wyatt. "Wyatt?" She frowned, scanning his face before her eyes snagged on the ring he was wearing. A sharp breath left her lips. "Oh."
Beth sighed, releasing Britney. "Well, Britney, I suppose that's that. He knows."
Britney's entire demeanor shifted. The fake innocence melted away like ice under a scorching sun, leaving behind something sharper. Something cruel. "Damn. And here I thought we could drag this out longer."
Wyatt clenched his fists, keeping his expression carefully blank despite the hurricane of thoughts slamming into him. "Know what, exactly?"
Beth's lips curled, her gaze laced with amusement, but her eyes held something darker. "Now, don't play dumb, Wyatt. It's honestly adorable, but we're past that, aren't we?" She cocked her head, smirking. "I will say, I'm impressed. You put it back on sooner than we anticipated."
His stomach clenched. The memories crashed over him in waves—Helena, their love, their desperate choice to leave the war behind. The moment he took the ring off, sealing away that part of himself. The moment Helena had given birth to their first child.
He'd thought it was his decision. To leave. To stop fighting. To start over.
But it was all a lie.
A slow, sinking realization settled in his chest like a lead weight. They had been watching him. Waiting. When Helena succumbed to the poison that demon had laced into her blood, they struck.
Beth. She wasn't some lucky second chance. She was sent. A witch. A trap. A curse.
A spell meant to make him forget who he was.
"You cursed me." The words rumbled from his chest, low and deadly. "You made me think I loved you. That everything I felt for you was real." His voice wavered, not from uncertainty—but from fury.
Beth laughed. A soft, haunting sound that sent chills skittering down his spine. "Oh, Wyatt," she cooed. "You didn't think you loved me. You did love me. That's the beauty of the spell. You weren't just a prisoner—you were willing."
His teeth ground together. The worst part? He remembered it. The nights. The whispered promises. The way he had felt something for her, even if deep down, something had always felt… off. He had ignored it. Brushed it away.
And that had been her victory.
His greatest failure.
His hands trembled with the urge to tear something apart. "Why?" His voice was rough, raw, barely contained. "What was the point? To distract me? To keep me from hunting after Helena—"
He choked on her name, like it physically burned to say it aloud.
Beth's smirk faltered. "Oh, Wyatt. You're still so caught up on her?" She rolled her eyes, waving a dismissive hand. "She's dead. Move on. She gave up everything for you, and yet, in the end, she still died."
Wyatt's body locked up, his muscles tight as steel cables.
Beth sighed dramatically. "You were willing to give up everything for her too, weren't you?" She arched a brow. "Don't act like I forced you into this life, Wyatt. You left. You settled down. I simply helped you stay on course."
"You helped me?" The words dripped venom. He let his rage break through now, his control snapping. "You used me! You saw Helena's death as an opportunity. You knew I could never go back after my children were born. And you twisted that into something you could control."
Beth shrugged, completely unfazed. "We couldn't risk you returning to the hunt. You were a problem, Wyatt. A threat. The best solution? Give you a new purpose. A new love." She smirked. "And let's be real, it wasn't all bad, was it?"
A flash of their life together raced through his mind—the quiet moments, the false peace. But it had all been a façade. A beautifully constructed cage.
He had been played.
Britney let out a sharp laugh, flipping her hair back like this was all some entertaining soap opera. "And it worked. Pretty damn well, too." She grinned, eyes flashing with mischief. "Well… until I slipped up with that little 'monster face' moment."
Wyatt snapped his gaze to her, eyes turning ice-cold. "That was your mistake. You got cocky. You wanted to taunt Anastasia." His tone dropped to something dangerously low. "And in doing so, you exposed everything."
Britney's smirk wavered. Beth, for the first time, tensed. She shot her daughter a look, and Britney dipped her head slightly, guilt flashing across her face.
Wyatt saw it.
Beth exhaled sharply, crossing her arms. "You were never supposed to wear the ring again. You were supposed to live a peaceful life. A lawyer. A father. Free from all of this."
Wyatt shook his head slowly. "I always remembered who I was. I just let you convince me that it didn't matter."
Beth took a step closer, lowering her voice to something sickly sweet. "You wouldn't have loved anyone after Helena. Not unless we… helped." A slow, devious smile. "I won't lie to you, Wyatt. I did enjoy our time together. But my job was never about love. It was about keeping you from being what you were born to be."
His fingers curled into a fist, his nails biting into his palm.
Hunter. Warrior.
Not the broken man she had molded him into.
The ring on his finger pulsed, burning hot.
Beth saw it. Her confidence cracked.
"Helena gave up her wings for me. For our family." Wyatt's voice was deadly soft. "She gave up everything. And you thought you could just replace her?" His lips pulled back into something between a snarl and a smirk. "You seriously thought you could keep me from hunting?"
Beth's face darkened. "You don't understand, Wyatt. If you go back to that life—"
"I never left." He cut her off sharply, stepping forward. His fingers twitched toward the weapon at his back.
No. Not yet.
"I just forgot who I was." His eyes gleamed in the dim light. "Thanks to you."
The air grew thick. Heavy. Electric with unspoken threats.
Wyatt inhaled deeply, the fire in his chest reigniting. He wasn't lost anymore.
And this time?
There would be no running.