Chapter 345: I Miss him
For a long while, Cain’s mansion was much colder and far quieter than it had ever been before.
Such things tended to happen when a once vibrant and commanding lord suddenly became nothing more than a shadow of himself.
At first, Cain spent weeks searching for Violet—his lover, his anchor, the one being that had made the weight of existence bearable. Those weeks stretched into months, each passing day eroding what little hope remained. His searches yielded nothing. Not a trace. Not a whisper. Not even the faintest magical residue that suggested she still existed within reach.
Uva, the mansion’s resident witch, was threatened repeatedly—cornered, screamed at, and ordered to use spells to find Violet. Spells meant to track, to locate, to divine. But every attempt failed so completely that the magic itself might as well have been meaningless.
Against Lady June—a high-ranking coven member whose power and influence eclipsed her own—Uva knew she could never win. Especially not if the contest was a battle of finesse, contracts, or magical authority. Lady June was far too clever, far too entrenched in the coven’s laws.
Cain, however, did not care.
He despised Uva’s responses in the deepest way possible. Every time she stood before him to explain her failure, he threatened her with grievous bodily harm, his voice low and vibrating with something feral beneath the surface. The threats were never empty. Everyone in the mansion knew that.
And yet—Uva did try.
If for no other reason than the unbearable sight of Cain’s sad, hollow demeanor. The lord who once walked with confidence now moved as if the world itself were a burden too heavy to bear. It was the posture of a man—or a wolf—that had lost his heart and was on the very brink of losing his life.
The servants learned quickly not to overstep. Conversations became hushed. Footsteps softened. Trays were carried with shaking hands. The guards were even stricter with themselves, especially Harry, the head of the guard.
Lord Cain might have appeared calm on the surface, but Harry had been there.
He had seen what Cain was capable of.
He had witnessed the day Cain wiped out the previous servants in a bloody haze, the marble floors stained red, the air thick with the scent of iron and death. That memory alone was enough to keep Harry rigid with discipline.
Cain’s reputation preceded him, and Harry desperately wanted to keep his own head firmly attached to his shoulders.
Cain stopped attending most meetings, yet even the other lords did not dare overstep their bounds. Cain’s wolf was still more than three times the size of theirs—an unnatural anomaly that no one fully understood. They did not know how or why, but they knew better than to be the first fool to protest.
No one wanted to offer their head as a sacrifice.
Especially not Lord Magnus, who had once crossed Cain and been injured so badly that the lesson had carved itself permanently into his bones.
For a time, the mansion existed in a state of suffocating tension.
Then, slowly, that tension twisted into something else entirely.
Three months later, the quiet, withdrawn Cain was gone.
In his place stood a version of Cain that felt like a walking trap—the kind that snapped shut the moment someone stepped too close, friend and enemy alike. There was no warning, no mercy, and no distinction.
It was not only those within the mansion who noticed.
Even people who merely passed by the gates felt it.
Werewolves—creatures of instinct and dominance—trembled simply by his presence. Humans could not meet his gaze at all. Where once he had carried the demeanor of a man with the notoriety of a monster, now everything about him screamed wild.
His eyes were the most telling.
The gold they had once been slowly and subtly shifted into a deep reddish-gold in both eyes, a color that spoke of blood, fury, and something dangerously unrestrained. Sometimes the maids who served his meals caught fleeting hints of pain within that gaze—raw and unfiltered.
Those servants were the hardest to replace.
And the most highly paid.
People quit easily. People died quickly.
No one dared ask questions—not even Uva. At times, she turned herself into a literal statue within the mansion, hiding in plain sight, ensuring she would not be found. The only moments she allowed herself to communicate with Cain were after he had proven his stability by interacting with others first.
Things had gone from very bad to far worse.
It was painfully clear that there were still deeper levels to be crossed.
Cain’s strange illness had not been cured—only stemmed. Violet, lost in her own world of spells and obligations, had no idea. Lady June had manipulated something—perhaps the contract, perhaps the wording, perhaps the magic itself.
Violet had believed Cain would live a blissful life after she left.
Instead, his pain only grew.
It grew to the point where Cain could feel it deep within himself—there was no cure. Something Violet’s bond might have helped with, something now irreversibly damaged.
"Lo... Lord Cain!"
Harry’s voice cut through the silence.
"A message from Lord Vazer!"
Harry did his best not to stutter. A predator could smell fear, and fear meant prey. Worse still, Harry was the head of the guards. If he shook, what would his men do?
Relief flooded him when Cain accepted the message, opening it without incident and sparing Harry’s head.
The letter read:
Good news! One I’m sure will bring you pleasure! I’ve found a way to erase your pain! Come!
Cain stared at the parchment.
He felt that he should be happy.
Yet none of the emotions he expected came.
Looking deep within himself, he found nothing but emptiness—and something foul lurking beneath it.
Yes... yes... what was it?
He searched for the word even as he spat it out, staring into the darkened night beyond the window.
Rage.
That was it.
The only thing he could feel.
Three months had passed for Violet.
She followed Lady June closely, bound by a deal meant to last a year. Already, she was tired—though a part of her felt excited. Apart from returning to the coven a few times, they mostly stayed in the city or traveled from place to place.
Her lessons had begun in earnest.
Violet could now consider herself a witch.
Magic thrilled her. Learning what she was capable of felt intoxicating. Discovering that she was powerful only fueled that excitement—her inner core vast enough to store magic that could last an impressive amount of time.
She craved knowledge.
But beyond that—
She missed Cain.
Sorely.
There was not a single day she did not wonder what he was doing or how he was faring. Regret gnawed at her constantly—especially over how she had ended things between them. Lying about not loving him had been the worst mistake she could have made, even if it had been meant for his good.
She sat in her room, staring out the window at the rising dawn, a cup of coffee cradled between her hands. A sad smile touched her lips.
At least he’s hale and hearty, she told herself.
That alone was better than how pale and sickly he had once been. Without Lady June fully healing him, it would only have been a matter of time before his sickness worsened again—especially since the red vials had not helped.
"You did good, Violet," she whispered aloud.
Her expression grew even sadder.
"You did good."
She had barely repeated the words when the door behind her was pushed open without a knock.
Violet instantly knew who it was.
Lady June strode in, a dark cloak wrapped around her body, purple eyes gleaming with unnatural vibrancy. She looked far too young—a mask or a potion of youth, Violet suspected. Those spells were always nasty, considering the ingredients required.
"We’re leaving," Lady June announced.
Authority rang in her voice as she stopped and looked directly at Violet by the window.
"We’re heading to Lord Eldric’s territory. Things are moving quickly on the werewolf council, and he prefers me nearby."
Violet shrugged, unfazed.
She didn’t particularly care what Lady June did. She was an apprentice—nothing more.
"Like his personal witch helper?" Violet asked with a smug smile.
Lady June glared at her, rolling her eyes.
"More like a business partner," she replied dismissively.
Their relationship had been cold at first—especially after Lady June forced Violet to take a potion meant to dampen most of the connection she felt toward Cain. Even more so when Lady June insisted Violet confirm she wasn’t pregnant—a result Violet had been relieved to discover.
Still, beyond that, Lady June proved easier to talk to than Violet had expected.
She was not a monster beyond reason.
She was a gentle teacher.
And that, more than anything, surprised Violet the most considering what Cain had told her the last time they talked about Lady June being the one who killed his entire family.
