The Deadly Charm

Part 43 :The Price of Mistakes (Part 2)

Poisoned Desire

Inside a quiet bedroom wrapped in dusk-orange glow from a single bedside lamp, the air was thick with the remnants of passion. The sheets tangled. The scent of skin and sweat lingered. And amidst that silence, two bodies lay intertwined—naked, warm, and deceiving.

Yanawadee lay beside Kongkiat, her breathing soft, her expression serene, satisfied. A smile danced at the corners of her lips, tinged with victory.

She turned to gaze at him, her eyes alight with a quiet certainty. He came back to me.
Her plan, it seemed, had worked.

She was convinced that Akira had already consumed the cursed cookie. That her rival would be writhing in agony somewhere, invisible to her now, but inevitably destroyed. And here, beside her, was the man she believed she had won back.

"I knew you'd return to me..." she whispered, barely audible.

Kongkiat turned to her, his expression soft—affectionate, even. But behind those eyes lay something colder. Calculated. Cruel.

"Wadee..." he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I'm glad we're together again."

His voice was velvet. It always had been. Smooth, persuasive, dangerous.

He leaned closer, preparing to spin another line of sweetness—but she touched his lips with her finger.

"No need to say anything," she whispered. "Just having you back... that's enough."

Her heart swelled with deluded joy. In her mind, she had won. Akira was out of the picture. And Kongkiat, with nowhere else to go, had no choice but to crawl back to her arms.

She moved closer, letting her lips brush against his ear. "I've always known you still wanted me. I'll be everything you need."

He nodded, fingers weaving through her hair like silk. "You have no idea how empty I felt without you. You make me whole."

The words, so sweet, dripped with manipulation. She drank them like wine.

"If there's anything you want... anything at all, just ask," she said, voice trembling with emotion.

Kongkiat smiled. A real smile—but not for love. It was satisfaction. The kind a predator wears when its prey willingly steps into the trap.

"Just stay by my side," he said softly, kissing her forehead.

She closed her eyes in bliss.

Unaware.

Unaware that the man beside her wasn't there for love. That he had simply come back out of convenience. For money. For sex. For power.

And that everything she thought she controlled... was already beginning to spiral out of her grasp.

The Spirit's Warning

Elsewhere, in a peaceful room bathed in soft lamp light, Akira sat on the edge of the bed, holding the cookie box in her hands.

She stared at it—unsure.

Something didn't feel right.

Lloyd, the childlike guardian spirit, shimmered into view beside her.

"Don't eat it," he said firmly.

Akira looked at him, puzzled. "But... it looks like a normal cookie."

"There's something wrong with it."

From the other side of the room, Krittin—calm, watchful—approached and took the box gently from her hands.

"Let me see."

He opened the lid and lifted one of the cookies, inspecting it carefully. His eyes narrowed.

"It looks harmless... but there's a strange dark mist clinging to it."

He focused. His energy pulsed.

"It's cursed."

"What?" Akira blinked.

Lloyd chimed in, pointing. "It's poison! Poison! Poison!"

Krittin's expression darkened. "He's right."

"What kind of poison?" she asked.

"A deadly one. It destroys the body, induces hallucinations, and eventually... kills."

Akira froze.

"Why would Wadee do this to me?"

She racked her brain, searching for a reason. But nothing came to mind.

"We'll figure that out later," Krittin said gently. "For now, thank Lloyd."

"I did good, didn't I?" Lloyd beamed proudly.

"You did great," Krittin said, tousling his hair.

"Can you track where this came from?" he added.

Lloyd saluted like a cartoon superhero. "Leave it to me!"

And with that, he spun in the air like a magical boy transforming—then vanished in a flash of light.

Akira sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Krittin... are you letting him watch too much anime?"

Krittin blinked innocently. "What? No..."

"You sure?" she pressed.

"Hmm..."

He leaned in suddenly and kissed her, deep and slow—stealing her words and her breath.

When he pulled back, his eyes gleamed.

"Let's not talk about that."

"You always do this," she muttered, cheeks flushing.

He just laughed—a low, rumbling sound.

Then kissed her again.

His hands began to roam, tracing the familiar curves of her body. Her breath hitched. A soft moan escaped her lips as his touch deepened, grew more urgent. Krittin moved over her with slow, controlled hunger.

And in the glow of lamplight, their bodies tangled together in a rhythm of need, of passion, of something far deeper.

A shadow of danger hovered outside that room.

But for now, in that warm haven—they were one.