Chapter 21 Violet
Violet
I reached for him before I even knew I was doing it.
Bash, I called down the bond.
Nothing.
My steps slowed for half a second, confusion flickering. I reached again, this time with intent.
Sebastian.
Still nothing.
He fucking ignored me.
That did it.
Heat flared under my skin, quick and sharp, but I barely registered it as anger rose up to meet it. I didn’t bother asking anyone where he was. I didn’t need to. The bond still pulled, even if he refused to answer it, a quiet thread leading deeper into the castle.
Fine.
If he wasn’t going to come to me, I would go to him.
The corridors blurred past. Guards stepped aside without being told to. By the time I reached the war room, the air around me felt… different. Tighter. Warmer. Like it was pressing outward from my skin without permission.
I shoved the door open.
Sebastian stood at the center of the room with Adar. Papers were spread across the table. Edges curled where his shadows had dragged over them. A dagger was embedded in one corner, sunk deep enough that the wood beneath had splintered.
His back was to me. His shadows moved, but he didn’t.
Adar turned to me immediately.
“Get out,” I said before he could say anything.
Adar looked at me as if I had punched him.
Sebastian must have told him to leave through their bond because the moment he opened his mouth to berate me, he shot a look at Sebastian and muttered the entire way out of the room.
“Are you serious right now?” I said.
Sebastian didn’t turn. My jaw tightened. I stepped fully into the room, letting the door slam behind me.
“I called you,” I said.
“I know.”
His voice was even.
“You knew,” I repeated. “And you just… what? Decided not to answer?”
Now he turned. Slowly.
His gaze went straight to my neck.
“I was working, love,” he said as smooth as he could, but I could feel the tension through the bond and the way his shadows began to rise on the walls.
“Don’t,” I snapped. “Don’t do that thing where you act like everything is fine because you’ve decided it is.”
His eyes darkened slightly, but he didn’t rise to it. “I’m not acting like anything.”
“No,” I said, stepping closer, “you’re just ignoring me instead.”
Silence stretched between us. Heat curled along my arms, subtle but present, like it was waiting for direction I wasn’t giving it.
I didn’t care.
“Do you know how that felt?” I went on. “To reach for you and get nothing back?”
“That wasn’t—”
“No,” I cut him off, voice tightening, “don’t explain it away. You don’t get to shut me out and then tell me it wasn’t what it was.”
His shadows pulled tighter along the walls.
“I wasn’t shutting you out,” he said.
“Then what do you call it?”
“I was busy looking through Nathara’s letters for the past year to see if I missed something.”
“And I didn’t deserve to be part of that?” I shot back. Then I laughed, sharp and humorless. “Gods, this is starting to feel familiar.”
His eyes narrowed. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” I said, the anger finally spilling over properly, “that I’m getting really tired of finding out there are things that you decided I didn’t need to know.
You didn’t tell me about Nathara,” I continued.
“You didn’t tell me you’d seen this before.
You didn’t tell me you’ve been going out and—what?
Killing anyone who’s ever touched me wrong? ”
His jaw tightened.
“Do you not think I deserve to know what’s going on?”
“I can handle it,” he said.
“That’s not the point!”
The candles in the room flared.
“It is to me.” The words snapped out, sharper than anything he’d said so far.
The room went still.
I stared at him. “That’s the problem.”
His brows pulled together slightly. “Violet—”
“You don’t get to decide what I know or what I am a part of,” I said.
“You don’t get to decide what I can handle.
You don’t get to just—fix things behind my back like I’m someone you need to manage.
I’ve spent my entire life being told what’s happening and just having to accept it all. You can’t do that to me.”
His shadows lashed once along the wall, quick and violent before snapping back into place.
“That’s not what I’m doing.”
“Then what are you doing?”
He took a step toward me. “I’m making sure you’re safe.”
“And that’s what I was this morning? Safe?”
I regretted the words as soon as they spilled out. His shadows raced towards me, wrapping gently around my legs in that protective way they always did. He blamed himself for today, and I just pushed the knife in a little deeper.
I took a breath. “I’m trying to stand next to you. All anyone has ever seen me as is someone that is weak and needs to be protected. You can’t be like Calum. You have to let me be a part of it. Please.”
“You think this is about you not being strong enough?” He stepped closer, close enough now that I could see the strain he’d been holding back, the edge of something far more dangerous beneath the control.
“You think that’s why I don’t tell you everything?” he continued, quieter, but the words were sharper now. “Because I don’t think you can handle it?”
I didn’t answer.
Because part of me had.
His jaw tightened. “That’s not it.”
“Then what is it?” I demanded.
His gaze locked onto mine.
And for a second, his control slipped. Fear surged through the bond—an emotion he usually kept buried so deep I only ever caught glimpses of it.
“This isn’t about you being strong enough,” he said, voice low, rough now. “It’s about me not surviving if anything happens to you.”
Everything in me stilled.
“I am not worried about what you can do,” he went on, quieter now but no less intense.
“I am worried about what the rest of the world will do to you if they get the chance. I have never had a weakness, but now I do. And she already has a target on her back for her lineage. And I am not going to stand there and let that happen while I explain it to you in pieces,” he added, his voice tightening.
“If I can end something before it reaches you, I will. And everything that slips past me will be dealt with.”
“You don’t get to decide that alone,” I said, but my voice wasn’t as sharp as it had been.
“I do if it keeps you breathing.”
“That’s not how this works.”
“It is for me.”
I threw my hands up. “You don’t get to protect me by lying!”
“I didn’t lie, love,” he said.
“You kept things from me.”
“Yes,” he admitted.
“That’s—” Frustration bled through my voice. “You’re just going to—what—say that like it’s fine?”
“No,” he said. “I’m saying it because it’s true.”
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then I stepped closer, closing the last bit of space between us.
“You don’t get to do this alone,” I said. “Not anymore.”
His gaze dropped briefly—to my throat, to the fading bruises, to my wrist still wrapped in bandage. His hand lifted, slowly, like he was afraid of hurting me just by touching me. His fingers hovered near my throat before finally brushing lightly over the bruised skin.
His jaw clenched. “You’re hurt because I wasn’t in front of you to stop it.”
“You won’t always be there to protect me.”
“I know,” he said. “And it’s killing me. I keep hoping that I can just eliminate every threat before you are without me in your realm.”
“That’s impossible, Bash. You know that.”
“I know.” His hand shifted against me, gentler now, grounding instead of checking. “I should have told you.”
The words were quiet. Honest.
I let out a slow breath and nodded. “Yeah. You should have.”
“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment. “I won’t keep anything from you anymore. Not even the worst parts of me.”
“I want to know it all.
He sighed. “Okay. I had the Druan Swamp drained. Every last piece of black opal has been extracted and locked away. No one is going to use that against me again.” His jaw tightened slightly as he continued.
“I still don’t understand how they managed to get a piece out without me knowing.
It’s in the Night Realm. I should have seen it happening. ”
“Don’t you see? All this weight you’re carrying, you don’t have to carry it alone,” I said.
Something guarded flickered behind his eyes. “But that’s who I am. Who I’ve always had to be. And I’m not going to stop doing the things that I know will protect the ones I love.”
“I don’t want you to change,” I continued.
“I want all of you. The part that worries about keeping everyone safe. The part that needs to control everything just to sleep at night.” I huffed a small breath.
“Gods— even the part of you that kills without an ounce of remorse. I just want to know what you do before you do it.”
For a moment, he simply watched me. Then he gave a small nod.
“Okay.”
I tilted my head slightly, studying him. “So where is he?”
His eyes darkened. “Who?”
I didn’t answer.
“Calum? I’d assume he’s off crying to his mommy right now.”
“Do not lie to me,” I said, stepping closer.
“I promise you. I didn’t do anything to him that you didn’t see. As far as I know, he’s back in the Mountain Realm.”
“But Bronwen said—”
He laughed. “Bronwen needs to mind her own business.”
“Yeah, you tell her that,” I mumbled.
He kissed my forehead.
“I’m still mad at you,” I added.
Then my cheek. “I know.”
“And we’re not done talking about this.”
Then my lips. “I know.”
I hesitated, then said, “But I get it.”
His eyes flicked back to mine.
“I don’t like it,” I clarified. “But I get it.”
“Good. Because this isn’t over,” he said, quieter now, but dangerous in a different way. “Someone did this. To you. To him.”
“I know.”
“They didn’t just stumble into you,” he went on. “They wanted you alone. They needed you to move without me noticing until it was already done. They knew I would come. They counted on it. They didn’t try to fight me directly. They made me walk to the problem by getting to you.”
Worry etched his face.
“They tried to take you from me before I could even see it happening.”
A chill slid down my spine.
“What do you think they are going to do next?” I asked.
His shadows shifted. “They are going to try again. Only this time it will be much worse. But now I know. And next time,” he added, voice dropping, “I won’t let them leave breathing.”
I held his gaze.
“Next time,” I said, “I won’t be led anywhere at all.”