Chapter 12
CHAPTER
TWELVE
Stephan
D ancing with her is harmless.
And if it shuts those bullying girls up, all the better. I’m not invested; I don’t really care, but she’s my friend’s sister, and if people see her with me, she’ll land a decent enough match.
Fame’s good for some things.
I fix her mask in place. It’s intimate. And that kiss? Nothing at all, a little boost to a girl who’s quite clearly never been kissed.
It doesn’t matter that she tasted so sweet, a fresh taste that held the hint of wine. Like a thread of wicked teased from the pure.
Of course, there’s no way her brother can know I kissed her. He wouldn’t get it, how she needed it, like a dose of courage .
“People are going to notice we were gone,” Violet says. I had scooped up her shoes earlier, so as I lead her down the steps of the gazebo, I bend and pick them up from where I dropped them and hand them to her.
She releases me and slides them back on.
“Mom, maybe Heath. Definitely Iris, if she’s still here.” She looks at me through her mask. Worry swims in her hazel eyes. “They’re going to kill me. I shouldn’t have run?—”
“Hey.” I put my hand on hers and tuck it around my arm. Her touch makes my skin heat. Her violet scent threads through me. The fact that I can still smell her past her blockers—who the fuck knows what that means? I’ve always had a good nose, but I’m not sure if it’s that good. Maybe just with her.
“What? It’s true,” she says.
“Only if you let it.” I lead her down the path and back toward the mansion. “We must have just had the same idea to come out to the gazebo at the same time.”
There’s a pause. “Right. It’d be silly to think you came out to check on me.”
“I actually did. But that’s not the lie we’re going to tell.” I laugh. “The ‘chaperone’ rule is stupid, if you ask me. We’re adults. We shouldn’t need a babysitter to talk.”
“It’s so Omegas aren’t taken advantage of.”
“Is it?” She’s so innocent, taught well to take on her Omega role in a pack. “Don’t you get sick of how rigid life is here on Sabine?”
“It’s the only life I know.” She shrugs. “But it doesn’t matter if I like the rigidity or not. It’s—it’s how things are done. ”
“Like getting mated, popping out a whole litter of pups?”
“If that’s what someone wants, then they should have it.”
She’s not saying the truth, not entirely, but I don’t push. Violet’s life isn’t my problem. I’m just here for the summer and then I go back to my career. So I leave it be.
“You’re with one of the best actors in Emporia, so trust me. I’ll be able to get you back to the ball without anyone questioning your…integrity.”
“I trust you.”
She shouldn’t, I know that. But then again, I have zero intentions on my friend’s sister, pretty and honest and unexpected as she is.
No one saw us, no one but her sister, who’d been by the doors, eyeing the stage and musicians setting up their chairs and music stands. Dark-haired, quiet, blending in, she seemed to be in her own little world, but when she saw us, a smile bloomed for Violet and a slight frown for me.
Violet walks over to her. “Dahlia, did anyone?—”
“No.” Dahlia’s gaze hits me with a sharp look.
The girl looks young. Maybe as young as Rue.
“Is everything okay?” she asks.
Violet glances at me. “Yes—of course it is. I?—”
“Your sister was just feeling a bit too warm inside and needed fresh air,” I lie with ease and pull out her delicate purple ribbon from my pocket. “I saw that she’d dropped this and went to return it to her.”
Violet stares at it.
Dahlia eyes me suspiciously. “Then why is it still in your pocket?”
Ah shit. She’s smarter than I thought.
“Because we knew we had to come back inside to avoid senseless rumors.” I take Violet’s hand, place the ribbon into her palm, and curl her fingers closed over it.
“Where did you…” But then she realizes Dahlia is still watching us intently and clears her throat. “Right. Thank you, Mr?—?”
“Ashford,” I reply. “Stephan Ashford.”
“Violet Gardener.” She dips her head in a proper introduction.
Dahlia’s gaze passes over us, back and forth, like she doesn’t quite buy our story, but luckily she doesn’t press.
The three of us step further into the ballroom, but once I’m in the open room, a flock of Omegas rush over to me, surrounding me and shoving Violet and Dahlia out of the way. Their blockers are almost as suffocating as if they wore their natural scents.
“Asher! Asher! A dance for me?” an Omega with a peacock feathered mask and green dress asks.
She’s pushed back by another one, this one wearing black. “Me first!”
My mini pad is buzzing nonstop in my pocket, but I don’t dare look at it. Instead, I’m craning my neck over the swarm to find where Violet is. I spot her and Dahlia by the stage, where the musicians are taking their seats and readying their instruments. The purple ribbon is tied around her wrist .
This is Sophine’s fault. She thinks she’s playing chess with me, but I’ve never been known to play by the rules.
I start to push my way through the crowd. “I’m sorry, ladies. I’ve already been promised for the evening to the Luxe. I’m taking up every space on her dance list. Maybe next time.”
It takes some work, but I’m able to make it out the other side in one piece. Luckily, the hungry Omegas have taken me at my word and don’t pursue me as I cross the room and walk up to Violet again.
Just as the music swells—a slow, romantic song—I hold out my hand. “Are you ready for our dance?”
She pauses, and for a moment, I think she may turn me down. But then she slides her hand in mine.
I take her in my arms, one hand on her waist and the other holding out her hand. Stiffly, she lets me glide her farther onto the dance floor, where other couples have begun to circle and sway to the melody.
“Relax,” I say against her ear, and then breathe in the lingering ghost of violets. “I won’t step on your feet or anything.”
She laughs a little but avoids meeting my eyes. We may be following all of the Season’s stupid rules with how we’re holding each other and moving, but our bodies are still close, her chest pressed against mine and cleavage on full display.
She had been so much more relaxed when we were alone in the gazebo and in the boathouse, but now with everyone watching, she’s as rigid as a board.
“Do you think Heath would have a fit if I stop by for a visit soon?” I ask .
“Why would he?” she says.
“He’s always kept his family life more…private.”
Her gaze flicks up to mine. “I’m sure he’d like to see you. You are his friend, after all.”
“To be frank, I’m already at my limit with him,” I say and touch the ribbon on her wrist. “What I’d really like is to stop in to see you again.”
Her full attention is on me now. Even as I twirl her and bring her back in, she stares at me. “You don’t have to pretend you want to. It’s okay.”
“I want to.”
Do I? I want to say no, not really , but the longer the song goes on, the calmer she gets until her dancing is more fluid, languid, and her body is in perfect harmony with mine and the music. Her eyes are closed and she’s humming along, almost forgetting that I’m even here. Serene.
This is the true Violet. Just a taste of her. The one that intrigues me and I wouldn’t mind learning more about.
So maybe I will pop by the Gardener household tomorrow, see her again after tonight. Just for the hell of it.
And pissing off her big bad older brother? Well, that’s just a bonus.