Chapter 319: _ Was It Really Her?
"Ah, I didn’t know you had it in you," Álvaro chuckled, voice curling around the ivy like it had vines of its own. "All these years playing the dignified De La Vega daughter, dressing in silk and walking like a church bell at dawn, but now look at you. Calculated. Cold. Selling yourself for his legacy. Truly, I underestimated you."
María José didn’t flinch or smirk. She didn’t scream or cry or shove him away. She simply looked at him like a marble statue carved into poise.
I couldn’t tell what was worse; his gloating or her calm.
I wanted her to scream or slap him. To do something that told me she still belonged to me in some way. That she felt something for me.
But she just said, "Then you clearly never knew me at all."
Álvaro smiled. Bastard. And then, casually, he brushed her cheek with his knuckle like it was nothing—like he had the right.
My vision dimmed for a second. Literally. I blinked hard and forced myself to stay rooted. My nails were digging into the bark so deep now that blood streaked down my palm.
I could hear Hugo pacing in my mind, claws clacking against my thoughts.
"Axel. Don’t. Not yet. We need to know if it’s real."
But how could it be not real?
Unless...
Unless it wasn’t her. No. Wait. Ignacio.
My brain lit up like lightning across storm clouds. That son of a bitch. The demon with a talent for mimicry. He hadn’t shown himself since the wedding. Since she’d made that deal with him. Since María’s awakening. But Ignacio had always been a puppeteer, slipping into our lives when we least expected it—taking faces, forms, and manipulating situations.
He’s done it before. He could do it again. He could BE doing it again.
Could it be?
My thoughts tangled as Álvaro finally stepped back and said, "I’ll be in touch, mi reina. Soon."
María José didn’t respond. She turned with grace, her hair slipping over one shoulder like liquid gold, and she walked away—straight through the red arch, across the garden, and vanished into the shadows leading toward our wing.
Álvaro stayed by the fountain, smirking to himself like a man who had just won the lottery with someone else’s ticket. He stretched his arms over his head and exhaled loudly.
"I cannot wait to have Axel’s little wife in my bed," he said to the moon in a low and arrogant tone. "Finally something good will come out of that man’s miserable existence."
Dammit!
I should have shifted. I should have flown at him teeth first and torn out his jugular. Hugo begged for it. But I didn’t. I stayed in the shadows. Bloodied, cracked, shaking, but frozen.
Because if there was even a one percent chance... that what I just saw wasn’t her... I needed to know.
___
I followed her.
My steps were silent. My breath was shallow. The scent was the same; coconut and honey—but something about her steps felt off. Too light and fluid. Or maybe that was just my paranoia poisoning everything now.
She made it back to our suite. Slipped in through the side door like she hadn’t just promised her body to my brother in exchange for mercy.
I stayed outside. Hidden in the archway near the west terrace where I could see both the window and the door.
If this were Ignacio, he would want to leave through any of those entrances since he was done as it seems. I would keep a keen eye and ensure he doesn’t escape my sight.
However, minutes passed and one came out. I heard no other scent. No shadow or Ignacio.
What was this? Was it really her? No, no... I refused to even believe it could be. Not the María I knew.
Just then, I started to hear voices coming from the inside.
"...Señora," Lila’s voice began. "Señor Axel was asking of you earlier. He seemed..."
"I know," María José replied.
Her voice was warm. Gentle. Soft like she hadn’t been slicing my heart apart moments ago. "I just needed air."
Air?
"You missed the tea, señora," Carmen added. "We thought something happened."
"It’s fine. I’m fine," she said.
And then, after a pause, "Did he look worried?"
That’s when my throat clenched. My eyes stung.
I turned away from the window, pressing my back against the stone wall of our home as if that would hold me together. But it didn’t. I slid down it slowly, knees drawn to my chest, blood drying on my hands from the bark.
I wasn’t breathing. I was... breaking.
What the hell just happened? Was that really her?
She sounded real. She smelled real. The way her voice curved around the maids’ names. The specific way she said "Did he look worried?"... that was her.
It had to be her.
So... was I just betrayed?
Or...
Was I chasing a ghost? I closed my eyes. My breathing came out shallow, ragged. Then the worst thing happened. A tear slid down my cheek. And then, another hot and shameful one did too.
And another. I couldn’t stop it.
I, Axel, once the strongest Beta in this continent, reduced to a sobbing man in the shadows of his own home because the woman he married might’ve just handed herself to his brother like a damn bribe.
My ribs hurt with the weight of it. Like grief had found a home between them and refused to leave.
God, I loved her. I hated her. I wanted her gone. I wanted to hold her. I wanted to kill Álvaro. I wanted to kill myself for letting this happen. But mostly, I wanted answers.
However, how on earth do I even present this to her? How could I look at her the same after this?
I mean, I had just forgiven her of the honeymoon mess because I knew it wasn’t her fault. Even though there was no evidence, deep down, I just knew.
Now this happened. Tell me... what do I make of this?