Chapter 316
~Axel’s Point Of View~
{So Days Back}
I never smoked before Madrid. Not once. I thought it was stupid. I saw it as a vice for the weak, a poor excuse for coping. I rember mocking Rafael for doing it when his mother passed. Told him grief wasn’t a fire that needed more smoke.
Now look at .
Crouched on the edge of the private terrace in my wing, shirtless, barefoot, knuckles still bruised from training, with a cigarette burning between my fingers like it was the only damn thing holding together.
The embers hissed in the breeze, just like my thoughts. I took another drag. It burned. So did everything else. Two months into marriage. That’s all it took to start falling apart.
We hadn’t even had ti to fra a wedding photo.
And yet, here I was—sneaking smokes like a fucking teenager, hiding it from María José because I didn’t want her to see how far I was breaking. Because I couldn’t let her know that the strongest man she knew, her protector, the one who once promised to be her shield, her sword... couldn’t protect the only thing that ever mattered.
Her.
God, I loved her.
More than life. More than air. More than the pack our families were trying to build from the ashes of our ruined bloodlines. She made believe in sothing softer than survival. Sothing better than vengeance.
And then, our wedding night happened.
I rember how she looked under the candles—like a painting, like a goddess sculpted just for . And I rember the mont—the exact fucking second I realized the truth.
She wasn’t a virgin. She didn’t even know it. It shattered .
Not because I cared about so outdated purity bullshit. I wasn’t that guy. But because she cared. She made it a whole point. Said she’d kept herself for —for us. Said she’d never even kissed soone without overthinking it. And then the bloodless sheets. The way she blinked up at so innocently, asking if it was supposed to hurt more.
And I... God. I broke but not out loud. Never out loud. I got out of that bed and punched a hole in the wall of the bathroom so hard my hand swelled for three days because Hugo wouldn’t heal .
He thought I was letting my emotions get in the way of logical reasoning, but seriously, was I to be blad? What man wouldn’t break under the face of such?
It took weeks to realize it wasn’t María’s fault.
She would never give herself to soone like Ignacio knowingly. She wouldn’t lie. She couldn’t lie like that. No... she was spelled. Enchanted. Sothing dark had happened. And it made sick that I hadn’t protected her from it. That I wasn’t strong enough back then to kill Ignacio before he ever touched her.
That I wasn’t strong enough to bring Rosa down but had to subject María to Ignacio’s rcy in return for help. That wasn’t my original plan. I just wanted to bait him, but she went ahead and took his offer for help, not knowing that the bastard wanted her virginity as a price.
So I made a vow.
If I couldn’t undo what happened, I’d make sure she’d never be vulnerable again. Not like that. Not under my watch.
That ant one thing—power. Not love. Not flowers. Not poems or sweet mornings in bed.
Power.
And that ant work.
etings. Training. Deals. Expansion. More guards. Stronger alliances. Anything and everything that ant no one could touch her again without going through a kingdom of fire first.
But even while I worked, my heart was bleeding out in silence. She smiled at across the dining table, and I looked away. She touched my arm during a gala, and I stiffened.
She whispered my na in the dark, and I pretended I was asleep. I thought I was protecting her. Giving her space. Giving ti to rebuild.
But all I was doing was pushing her away.
And the mont I saw her tonight—standing in the hallway, her hair up in one of those goddess braids she wore when she ant business, I realized sothing terrifying:
I was losing her.
Not to another man or to treachery, but to silence. To all the damn things I wasn’t saying.
So I stood up, shoved the half-smoked cigarette into the stone wall, and left my wing with the taste of ash still in my mouth and a decision in my bones.
Fix it. Tonight. Or lose her forever.
I walked fast.
It wasn’t the kind of fast where you’re trying to make it sowhere. No. This was the kind of fast where your bones itch with urgency and your chest is too full of sothing you can’t na but you know it’ll drown you if you stop moving.
The suite was empty when I arrived there.
Her shoes weren’t by the door. Her robe wasn’t tossed across the foot of the bed like usual. The light in the bathroom was off. No scent of her coconut hair oil, no faint hum of her voice singing so song off-key in the shower.
Nothing.
Just a hollow room and the echo of what I should’ve said to her hours ago. I was about to tear the place apart when I heard the shuffle of a voice. I turned sharply, nostrils flaring.
Her maids.
Lila and Carn stepped in, whispering sothing in rapid Spanish before freezing at the sight of . Lila was holding a tray of hot tea. Carn had a basket of laundry that looked way too light to justify the frantic energy she walked in with.
"Where’s my wife?" I barked imdiately.
"Señor," Carn squeaked. "We... we thought she’d be here already."
"She told us to co in first," Lila added, setting the tray down with hands that trembled slightly. "Said she had sothing to handle."
My jaw clenched.
"Handle where?"
They looked at each other, both clearly unsure if they should speak.
Oh, they better not push to the edge tonight. What could my wife be doing at this hour that warranted her dismissing her maids or their panicked reactions to my sudden presence?
I advanced a step, shooting them a death stare. "Don’t make ask again."
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