Chapter 83: The Rift

Ivy’s POV

I couldn’t move.

Leo’s words cut through me like a knife. 

‘Just go, Ivy.’

The weight of my own breath felt unbearable, my chest tightening as guilt twisted deep in my stomach. I wanted to scream that I didn’t do it on purpose. That I would never—could never—hurt him. But the words stuck in my throat.

Leo lay there, his skin paler than before, his breaths shallow but steady as Isabella tended to him. I should have been the one at his side. I should have been the one holding his hand, whispering apologies, doing anything to take away the pain I had caused.

But instead, Isabella was there.

‘He could have died!’ Her words still rang in my ears, looping over and over.

Leo still wouldn’t look at me.

I took a step back, my fingers trembling.

“I didn’t mean to…” My voice cracked.

No one answered.

No one even looked at me.

I felt like a ghost in the room, unnoticed and abandoned.

The walls closed in, suffocating me with memories—memories of Leo’s laughter, his touch, the way he used to pull me into his arms as if I were the only thing in the world that mattered.

Now?

Now, he wouldn’t even spare me a glance.

I stumbled out of the room, my vision blurring as I made my way down the hall. My breathing was uneven, my heart pounding like a war drum against my ribs. Every step felt heavier than the last, like I was sinking into the floor.

I needed air.

I needed to get out.

Pushing through the front doors, I stepped into the cold night, wrapping my arms around myself as the wind bit at my skin. My legs finally gave out on the steps, and I sank down, burying my face in my hands.

Tears burned the back of my throat, but I refused to let them fall.

I had wanted to do something good for Leo, to prove that I wasn’t just the jealous woman haunted by his past. Instead, I had nearly killed him.

A sound escaped my lips—a strangled mix between a sob and a laugh.

Is this what I’ve become? A danger to the man I love?

I stayed still, inhaling the cool night air and letting the wind wipe my tears away. 

After what felt like an hour, the front door opened behind me. I didn’t turn.

“Ivy.”

Leo.

His voice was hoarse, a little weaker than usual, but it still held the power to unravel me completely.

I had almost killed him. The guilt nearly ate me up.

I sucked in a sharp breath, bracing myself.

Then, I felt his warmth as he lowered himself onto the step beside me.

Silence stretched between us.

I kept my eyes fixed on the driveway, afraid that if I turned to face him, I’d see the anger, the disappointment, the blame.

Finally, he spoke.

“I know you didn’t do it on purpose.”

My body tensed.

“But you could have killed me, Ivy.”

I flinched.

“I know,” I whispered.

Leo exhaled, his breath uneven but steady. I could feel his gaze on me, but I couldn’t bring myself to meet it. The silence between us was thick, pressing against my ribs, making it harder to breathe. 

Then, he did something I never expected.  

His arms wrapped around me, pulling me against his chest. The warmth of him, the steady thrum of his heartbeat, sent a shock through my body. I stiffened at first, but then I melted into him, my fingers gripping his shirt like he might disappear if I let go. 

“If I’m destined to die at your hands,” he murmured into my hair, his voice laced with something that sounded almost like amusement, “then I’d die with a smile on my face.”  

A strangled sob left my lips, and I shook my head against him. “Don’t say that,” I whispered, my voice breaking.

“I—” My voice wavered. “I thought she said hazelnut. I swear I did, Leo. I wasn’t trying to—”

He reached for my chin.

I pulled back slightly, finally daring to look up at him. His face was still pale, dark circles shadowing his eyes, but there was something else there—something soft. Something real.  

“I’m fine, Ivy,” he assured me, his thumb brushing against my cheek. “I promise.”  

“But I—”  

“I’m fine.” His voice was firmer this time, leaving no room for argument. “And I’m sorry. For making you leave. I just—” He exhaled sharply, his eyes darkening with something raw. “I couldn’t stand you seeing me like that. Seeing you blame yourself.”  

Tears welled in my eyes. “How could I not blame myself, Leo?” My voice was barely above a whisper. “I almost lost you.”  

“You didn’t.” He cupped my face, forcing me to look at him. “I’m still here. We’re still here.”  

I swallowed the lump in my throat. The guilt still clung to me like a second skin, but Leo was holding me together, piece by piece, like he always did.  

I squeezed my eyes shut, a single tear slipping down my cheek.

He wasn’t yelling at me. He wasn’t pushing me away.

That made it so much worse.

Despite that, for the first time since it happened, I let myself relax.  

I leaned into him, closing my eyes as he pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. The world felt quieter in his arms, like maybe—just maybe—we could find our way back to each other.  

For a moment, everything felt still.

Leo’s arms around me, his breath warm against my temple—it felt like a fragile peace, one I wasn’t sure would last.

And I was right.

Because in the days that followed, everything began to unravel.

It started with small things.  

Leo’s watch—one he never took off—vanished from the nightstand.  

“I left it right here.” His voice was tense as he turned over the bedside table, his movements sharp, controlled. “I always put it here, Ivy.”  

I sat up, rubbing my eyes. “Maybe one of the staff moved it?”  

His jaw clenched. “No one comes into our wing without permission.”  

That sent a shiver down my spine. It was true. The only people with access to our space were Leo, me, and— 

I cut the thought off before it could form.  

The watch turned up hours later, tucked neatly inside my closet, resting next to my handbag.  

Leo didn’t say anything, but his silence was loud.  

Next, then the balcony doors were left wide open in the middle of the night.

We woke up to the cold bite of the wind, the heavy drapes billowing violently as the moonlight poured in.  

I sat up abruptly, my pulse hammering. “Did you—?”  

“No.” Leo was already out of bed, striding toward the doors. His entire body was tense, his wolf barely beneath the surface. “This was locked.”  

He checked the security panel by the door. No breach. No forced entry.

And yet, they had been flung open as if someone had walked right in.  

Leo didn’t come back to bed after that. He stayed awake, sitting at the edge of the mattress, his arms folded tightly across his chest.  

I knew what he was thinking.  

There was no scent. No sign of intrusion. Which only directed the suspicion to me. 

Then the bloodstains appeared.

I woke up to the sharp, metallic scent filling the room. My pulse skyrocketed as I turned—only to find Leo already awake, staring at the deep red smear across his chest.  

His expression was unreadable.  

“Ivy,” his voice was eerily calm, too calm. “Are you trying to send me a message? What is really going on?”  

My breath hitched. But I couldn’t make out anything.

He stood abruptly, the sheets falling away as he strode into the bathroom. The door slammed shut behind him, rattling the walls.  

I sat there, frozen, my heart pounding. He thought I did this?

Leo returned minutes later, shirtless, his skin damp. His gaze was darker than before, the gold in his irises burning like embers.  

“This stops now.” His voice was sharp, cutting through the space between us. “Whatever game this is, whatever guilt you think you need to punish yourself with—it ends tonight.”  

My throat tightened. “You think I did this?”  

His expression flickered, but the doubt was there.

He didn’t answer.  

And that hurt more than anything else.  

I know how much Leo valued order—how everything had its place, precise and untouched.

I also know that he had been on edge for days, his patience wearing thin with every strange mishap—the shattered mirror in our private bathroom, the torn suit right before an important meeting, the documents that went missing from his study. Each time, his gaze lingered on me just a second too long, doubt creeping in.

His voice was low, controlled, but ice-cold as he confronted me. "Tell me, Ivy, what is going on?”

"I—I don’t know," I whispered, my stomach twisting violently.

"Of course, you don’t," he snapped, running a hand through his hair, his golden eyes burning into me.

Leo exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face. He looked away, shaking his head. “I can’t do this right now.” 

“Leo, wait—”  

But he didn’t stop.  

He didn’t even look at me.  

And when the door clicked shut behind him, I felt it in my bones.  

The shift. The rift.  

Whatever was happening—whatever was creeping into our lives, poisoning our trust—it was working.  

And I was terrified it was already too late.