Desired By Three Alphas; Fated To One - Chapter 199

Chapter 199: The Letter
Hailee’s POV

The letter was short. The handwriting was jagged, cruel, and scrawled in what looked like red blood.

“You have touched the lion’s tail. Be ready to get burnt,” it said.

My hands went cold. I read the line twice, then a third time, as if the words would change. Who would send this? Montana? One of the elders? Or someone else who wanted me gone from Callum’s life?

I wanted to run to Callum and show him the letter. I wanted him to hold me, to shout at whoever did this. But I didn’t want to make more trouble for him. The council was already angry. Montana was already making trouble. If I made a scene, things could get worse.

All I could think was Monday. I couldn’t wait for Monday to come so I could just leave this place. My life and that of the boys might be in danger.

Hours later, I was unable to stop staring at the letter. Even after I hid it deep inside my drawer, the words burned behind my eyes. They kept replaying in my head.

My heart hasn’t stopped racing since. No matter how many times I told myself it was just a threat, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was not just a threat.

By the time night came, I couldn’t sleep. The boys were safe in their rooms, but I sat by the window, my knees drawn to my chest, watching the moonlight spill across the floor.

Then came the knock.

I froze. “Who’s there?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s me,” Callum’s deep, familiar voice responded. “May I come in?”

My chest tightened. I quickly wiped my face and stood, brushing down my dress before opening the door. He stood there, the dim hallway light casting shadows across his face. His eyes softened the moment they found mine.

“You look pale,” he said softly. “Are you alright?”

I forced a small smile. “I’m fine. Just… tired.”

He didn’t believe me. I could tell by the way his brows drew together. Still, he didn’t push—not right away. Instead, he stepped into the room and walked toward the fireplace. He lit it with a single flick of his hand, the flames dancing to life.

Warm light filled the room, chasing away the shadows.

“Couldn’t sleep either,” he said after a moment, his back to me. “Too many things on my mind.”

I hesitated, then moved closer, sitting in the chair across from him. The firelight flickered between us, soft and golden. For a while, neither of us spoke. The silence wasn’t heavy this time—it felt… fragile, like something we both needed.

Finally, he looked up at me. “You’ve been through a lot,” he murmured. “I should’ve made things easier for you. For the boys.”

“It’s not your fault,” I whispered.

He shook his head slightly. “It is. Not when the people around me treat you like this.” His hand tightened against his knee, knuckles pale. “I can’t stand seeing them disrespect you.”

Something in his voice made my chest ache. He wasn’t just angry—he was hurt.

“You don’t have to fight for me, Callum,” I said quietly. “I can take care of myself.”

“I know,” he replied, his gaze locking onto mine. “But I want to.”

The room grew still again. The fire crackled softly, filling the silence between our breaths. My pulse quickened, my throat dry. He leaned forward slightly, elbows on his knees, eyes never leaving mine.

“I thought I’d forgotten how it felt,” he said softly. “Having you this close again.”

His words made something flutter in my chest—fear, longing, or both. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. There was too much in his eyes. Too much of what I’d been trying to bury.

“Callum…” I whispered, my voice trembling.

He smiled faintly, but it was a sad smile. “Don’t worry. I won’t cross a line.” He leaned back again, the firelight reflecting in his stormy eyes. “I just needed to see you tonight.”

My lips parted, but no sound came out. I wanted to tell him about the letter, the threat, the fear clawing at my chest—but the words stuck in my throat.

So instead, I said, “Thank you…”

He nodded once. “Always.”

Callum remained seated across from me, the firelight flickering across his face. Neither of us had said much after that. The silence was… heavy but strange. It wasn’t uncomfortable—it was full. Full of memories, of things neither of us dared to say.

He leaned back slightly, his lips curving into a small, teasing smile.

“You always get quiet when you’re thinking too much,” he said softly.

I frowned a little. “Maybe I just don’t know what to say.”

He chuckled under his breath. “Then maybe you need a little help talking.”

I raised a brow, curious. “What kind of help?”

He tilted his head, eyes glinting. “How about a game?”

“A game?” I repeated, surprised.

He nodded, that boyish smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Truth or dare. You remember how it goes.”

I gave a short laugh, shaking my head. “Really, Callum? We’re not children.”

“Maybe,” he said, leaning forward a little. “But sometimes, it takes a silly game to make people speak the truth.”

His gaze held mine, and something in my chest fluttered.

“Fine,” I said finally. “Truth or dare?”

He smiled. “Truth.”

I thought for a moment, pretending to be calm. “When was the last time you were truly happy?”

His expression softened, and the fire reflected in his stormy eyes.

“The last time I held you,” he said quietly.

My heart skipped. I looked away, but I could feel his stare burning into me.

“Your turn,” I said quickly.

“Truth or dare?” he asked.

“Truth,” I whispered.

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, voice low and rough. “Do you still think about me?”

The question hit me like a wave.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “Sometimes,” I whispered, barely able to breathe.

He smiled faintly, but there was pain in his eyes too. “Sometimes,” he repeated softly. “That’s better than never.”

The room went silent again, and I didn’t know what to do with my hands. My heart was pounding too loud.

“Your turn,” he said, voice lower now.

I forced a smile. “Dare.”

His smirk deepened. “I dare you…” He paused, his gaze locking on mine. “To look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want to kiss me.”

My breath caught. “That’s not fair.”

“It’s a dare,” he said, voice steady, teasing but soft. “You have to do it.”

I swallowed. My lips parted, but no words came. His eyes were on me—steady, stormy, full of heat and desire.

I tried to speak. “I…” My voice broke. I couldn’t finish.

His smile faded into something softer, something that made my chest ache. “Didn’t think so,” he whispered.

And then he leaned in—slow, careful, as if giving me time to stop him.

But I didn’t move.

When his lips touched mine, it was gentle at first—a brush, a memory. Then deeper, warmer, hungrier. The kind of kiss that pulls every breath from your chest and replaces it with fire.

My hands gripped his shirt before I even realized it. The world disappeared—just his breath, his warmth, his taste.

By the time we pulled apart, my chest was heaving. His forehead rested against mine, and we both stayed there, breathless, caught between what was right and what we couldn’t fight anymore.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he murmured, his voice shaky.

“I shouldn’t have let you,” I whispered back.

But neither of us moved away.