CHAPTER 322: WILLING OR NOT

Violet couldn’t pretend not to notice, no matter how much she tried. It wasn’t just the obvious signs—like the ever-shifting color of Cain’s eyes that mirrored his unstable moods—it was the fact that she shared a bed with him every night, that made it impossible to ignore, and infinitely more nerve-wracking.

His eye color changed with his emotions. And his emotions? They were never mild. It was as if he had grown a new personality altogether—one she didn’t recognize.

Sometimes, he was silent. Not the kind of silence that brought comfort, but a deep, oppressive quiet that weighed down the room. Violet would catch a glimpse of his eyes in those moments, and all she saw was pain—raw, barely-contained suffering that he was desperately trying to shield from her. Then, without warning, he’d shift—becoming intense in a way that made her feel like he was on the edge of erupting into something dangerous.

He never laid a hand on her, but even Violet wasn’t foolish enough to wait for the moment he might. The memory of when he had shattered her legs—no matter the reason—still haunted her. It was fresh, visceral, and not something she could forget as she made her way to Uva’s room, a deep crease of worry etched across her face.

She had gone to that room every single day. And every single day, Uva ignored her. It was something Violet had grudgingly accepted—until now. As she stalked her way downstairs, feet heavy but determined, her fists clenched with readiness. If Uva didn’t open that door this time, Violet was ready to bring it down herself.

But just as she raised her fist, prepared to pound on the door, it swung open—so sudden she froze mid-motion.

Uva stood there, and she didn’t look anything like herself. The Mask of youth she always wore had slipped away, revealing an aged, weary face. Deep lines carved her features, sweat glistened on her forehead, and her once-neat white hair was yanked back into a rushed ponytail.

"Uva!" Violet gasped, taken aback to actually see her.

But Uva didn’t give her a chance to say more. She grabbed Violet by the arm, dragging her inside with surprising strength for someone who looked so exhausted. Her body trembled slightly, and she shook her head as she muttered, "I was just about to find you."

Violet blinked, confused and still reeling from the sudden change. She caught the heavy bags under Uva’s eyes, the tired slump of her shoulders. Yet what shocked her more was the audacity of those words.

"Really? Is that why you didn’t open your—"

"Trust me, that’s not important right now!" Uva cut in sharply, her voice low but firm. Her eyes were serious, and her tone brooked no argument as she stepped deeper into the room, motioning for Violet to follow.

"I can’t," Uva said bluntly, her voice hollow, face blank as she looked at Violet with the weariness of someone utterly drained. "I can’t fix this. And pretending I can would be wasting both our time."

There was no fire in her voice. No urgency. Just the cold, empty honesty of someone who had reached their limit. Her tone alone made Violet’s chest tighten.

"We need a stronger witch. Preferably a Coven witch," Uva continued, each word more damning than the last. "This blood issue—it’s worse than I thought. If it’s left to fester, it’ll turn into something really bad."

"He’s been having headaches," Violet interjected quickly, her voice laced with concern. "And his moods have been—"

"That," Uva said, lifting a hand to silence her, "is the least of your problems."

Her voice sharpened. "If the blood in his body doesn’t find a way to coexist, they’ll begin to fight for dominance. And if that happens... one of them—or both—will become toxic. A poison strong enough to kill him."

Violet’s mouth parted, a quiet gasp escaping her lips as her eyes grew wide with disbelief. "Re–really?"

"Yeah," Uva said with a grim nod. "I couldn’t believe it myself when I figured it out."

"But... the witch we used the last time... she almost killed him," Violet whispered, glancing nervously toward the door scared that someone might overhear.

"I know," Uva replied, nodding again, her expression severe. And then she straightened, preparing herself to lie through her teeth—and lie well.

"Of course I know. Do you really think I’d go back to her?"

She met Violet’s gaze head-on. "I found someone else. She... she’s an old friend."

Uva said it with as much composure as she could muster, forcing her mouth not to twist into the grimace that threatened to take over. Her voice stayed light, even as her insides coiled in tension.

"Her name is Lady June. She’s... friendly. Nice. You’ll understand when you meet her."

But Violet didn’t look convinced. Her wary eyes narrowed, watching Uva like a cornered animal deciding whether to bolt. Still, Uva didn’t flinch. She stared right back, confident and composed, every word that followed brimming with sincerity.

"She’s powerful. If there’s anyone who can help Cain, it’s her."

Violet’s brow furrowed as she processed the information. "So she’s working on it?" she asked, rubbing her forehead with one hand as the weight of it all began pressing in. But then, like a painful memory resurfacing, her eyes narrowed.

"What does she want?" Violet asked slowly, almost dreadfully. The question wasn’t a guess—it was a certainty.

She remembered too well what the last witch had demanded—newborn werewolf blood.

’As long as this one doesn’t demand the babies themselves... it should be fine,’ she thought grimly.

Uva stepped closer, her expression softening just enough to seem earnest. "She wants to see you first. That’s all she asked for."

Violet’s brows lifted in astonishment. "What? Why? She has no business with me! Why would she want to—"

"I don’t know," Uva replied quickly. "But those are the rules. That’s what she demanded."

Uva could see it clearly—how much Violet cared for Cain, even if the girl didn’t recognize it in herself. The mark of their bond on her neck was impossible to miss. It was there, exposed, undeniable.

She expected Violet to ask her to lead the way. Instead, she watched in disbelief as the girl backed away, head shaking furiously.

"I—I refuse!" Violet said, voice high with panic. "There’s no way I’m meeting another witch, especially a High Coven witch. After what happened... I did some reading. I found out how cruel they really are!"

Her chest heaved with emotion. "I want Cain to get better, but if I have to trust someone with his life, it won’t be a High Coven witch."

It wasn’t just fear—it was logic. After everything she’d endured, everything she’d learned from the few, evasive answers Cain had given her, it was clear. A high witch had cursed him. A witch had poisoned him in the first place.

While Violet backed away, Uva clenched her jaw, fighting the urge to scream. Instead, she swallowed it down, inhaling deeply as she muttered under her breath, almost too quietly to hear:

"If I knew there was a chance she would refuse... I would’ve drugged her."

Because Uva knew one truth above all else now—if she wanted to keep living, she had to get Violet to Lady June.

Willing or not.