Chapter 8

The monotonous beeping of machines and the faint scent of antiseptic greeted Seth as his eyes flickered open. For a moment, the world blurred into hazy white. The ceiling above him was unfamiliar, and the dull ache in his ribs reminded him that he wasn’t waking from just another dream but from a brutal brush with death.

It took a moment before he saw her. Viola.

Her head was resting on the side of the hospital bed, her auburn hair spilling across the sheets like a comforting flame. She was asleep, one hand loosely holding his. Despite the sting in his side and the fog still thick in his mind, Seth felt his warmth spread through him. The sight of her curled beside him—so devoted, so present—reminded him that he made the right choice.

Not Rashel. Not her constant weak sobbing that mostly left him restless. Viola was loyal yet strong, warm yet solid. She was exactly what he needed.

His fingers twitched, gently brushing her knuckles. Viola stirred, blinking away sleep from her eyes. The moment her eyes met his, she gasped softly and straightened up sharply, as if afraid of being caught vulnerable.

“Seth!” she whispered, a smile slowly spreading across her face.

“Hey,” His voice was hoarse and low.

“I thought I lost you.” She leaned forward and kissed his forehead, then rested hers gently against his.

For a while, they didn’t speak. She held his hand tighter, grounding herself, while Seth let the warmth of her presence anchor him. But beneath Viola’s soft touch, a subtle tremble ran through her because she knew she wasn’t who Seth thought she was; she had secrets curled behind her smile, ones she prayed he wouldn’t see.

Viola hadn’t meant for Seth to be hurt; she had told Merikh not to go too far. She had warned him not to do anything. But of course, Merikh only did what Merikh wanted.

Now she sat here, praying Seth would never piece the truth together, because if he did, then she was as good as dead meat.

But he surprised her.

“It was Jethro,” Seth muttered, his voice tightening with fresh venom. “It had to be.”

Viola’s breath caught. “What?”

“Alpha Jethro. He’s responsible for this! He’s been circling, hasn’t he? I was too blind to see it earlier.” Seth clenched his jaw, his gaze growing distant.

“This wasn’t some random attack. It was calculated. He wants to cripple me, and what better way than to take me out when my guard’s down?”

Viola blinked clearly, stunned. But then, slowly, a smile crept into her eyes. She reached up and brushed a hand against his cheek, nodding as if affirming his suspicion. She hadn’t even thought about it that way. She hadn’t thought of pinning this on Jethro and blaming Rashel again.

“Yes, that makes sense. He has been a little too aggressive lately, especially since Rashel brought trouble between you two. Maybe… maybe he thought hurting you would shift power.” She watched Seth as she said this, hoping her words would plant a seed and it would grow in his mind.

Seth nodded, resolve hardening in his expression.

“I’m going to him as soon as I’m cleared. I’m not letting this go unanswered.”

Viola’s smile faded slightly. In her excitement, she hadn’t thought this through. The moment Seth had a confrontation with Jethro, he would discover the truth, and then it would spell trouble again.

“Seth… maybe you should just rest—” She began.

“No. I’ve let too many things slide. He made this personal.” He declared.

Viola wanted to stop him. She wanted to beg him not to go storming into enemy territory, but her guilt held her back. If she argued now, it would look suspicious. Instead, she simply swallowed her fear and nodded.

“When you’re ready,” she said softly, “I’ll be right here.”

Seth was discharged less than 48 hours later; his body was still sore, but his determination burned hotter than ever. He didn’t return to his estate. He didn’t even wait to gather allies; instead, he went straight for Jethro’s territory, blood rushing in his ears, the image of Viola’s worried eyes haunting him in silence.

The guards at the gate barely had time to react before Seth was inside. He stormed through the halls of Jethro’s compound, drawing attention like a lit fuse.

It didn’t take long for Jethro to find him.

The older Alpha stood at the top of the marble stairwell, arms crossed, his sharp gaze amused.

“Well, well, back from the grave already?” Jethro drawled.

“You ordered an attack on me, and you have the nerve to act surprised?” Seth snarled.

Jethro’s brow lifted, his grin widening.

“You think I had something to do with your little accident? That’s flattering, but I don’t need to lift a finger for you to unravel. You do that just fine on your own.”

“You know, I’ve thought you capable of many things, but a slimy, sneaky coward wasn’t one of them.”

“I don’t care what you think, Seth. I’ve said my piece. Leave my house when you’re done sulking.” Jethro said and turned to leave, but suddenly stopped and turned back.

“If you want a war, Seth, you’d better be ready to burn with it.” He said coldly before leaving.

Their eyes locked in a deadly silence. The air around them thickened, the weight of unspoken threats pressing down. Jethro made no admission. But he didn’t deny it either.

And for Seth, that was enough.

Across the estate, unaware of the storm brewing, Rashel stood outside in the yard. The air was thick with heat, the sun high overhead, casting a sharp light across the compound. She was lost in thought, her mind replaying memories she couldn’t escape—Seth’s smile, the way he used to look at her, the softness in his voice when he thought no one else could hear.

Maybe she should’ve fought harder for him, but she didn’t. And now he belonged to someone else.

“Still chasing ghosts?”

The voice snapped Rashel from her reverie.

Veronica.

Tall, elegant, and dangerous in the way only a mistress could be, Veronica stepped out from the shade, her heels clicking against the stone path like warning shots.

Rashel straightened.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Veronica spat, folding her arms. Her voice was silken, almost like a caress, but her eyes were sharp as blades.

“I’ve seen the way you look at him. My Jethro. Like you think you’ve got some kind of claim.”

“I don’t—” Rashel began.

“Save it,” Veronica snapped, stepping closer. “I don’t care what history you have with him. I don’t care if you shared a bed, a laugh, or a war. He’s mine now. And I don’t like competition.”

Rashel’s jaw tightened, but she kept her voice calm, and she hoped her face also mirrored that calmness.

“I’m not interested in Jethro.”

“Good. Then stay away from him. No more visits. No more lingering glances. No more… whatever game you think you’re playing.”

“You don’t have to worry about me,” Rashel said, turning to leave.

But Veronica’s next words stopped her cold.

“Worry about yourself, Rashel. Because in this world, loyalty only gets you killed. And love?” She smiled bitterly. “Love is a liability.”

Back at Viola’s home, she stood in her bedroom, the weight of everything pressing hard on her chest. Seth was with Jethro now, and her phone had been silent for over an hour. There was no way of finding out what was happening there or if she should get ready to run.

She kept replaying what he’d said before leaving: “I’m ending this today.”

She knew her husband, and she knew he never left things unfinished, especially if it involved his pride.

A part of her feared what he might uncover. Another part feared he wouldn’t uncover enough. Either way, the secrets between them were growing like thorns, threatening to tear them both apart.

Viola looked into the mirror. Her reflection stared back—flawless, poised, but trembling. She touched the pendant around her neck, a gift from Seth months ago.

She had begun to care for him; that much was real. But she had made deals she couldn’t undo. Made promises to Merikh that she couldn’t break, well, not without consequence.

“Please don’t find out the truth,” she silently begged. “Not now.”

Even in her fear, her mind went back to Rashel; she had to give her some credit. When Seth told her how Jethro confronted him for locking her up, Viola was surprised. So Rashel was capable of getting a man as powerful as Alpha Jethro in her corner after all. She needed to give her enough credit; maybe she wasn’t so innocent after all. This thought fueled her hate for Rashel. She held a secret that could trigger Seth and cause so much trouble for her and Merikh, and Viola knew she had to find a way to make that secret disappear along with its owner. Whatever it was she had to do, she had to do it fast.