Chapter 24 Violet #2
“When that fire rises again, you only let it out through your hands. If you don’t…” His head tilted slightly, a faint smirk pulling at his mouth—and this time, when he spoke again, the voice didn’t come from him.
It came from his shadow form behind me. “I won’t be gentle.”
The words wrapped around me—darker somehow coming from something that wasn’t entirely flesh. My breath caught, my pulse stuttering.
“Please, Bash,” I breathed. “Make me feel good.”
Something in his expression changed.
He turned me slowly until my back pressed against his chest and I was in his shadow form’s arms. It felt different than him—colder, heavier—but just as steady and real. Its hands settled at my hips as he sank inside of me.
I waited for motion but instead he held me still as Sebastian’s crown pressed against my backside. The ends of my hair caught fire.
“Look at me,” he murmured, his voice low against my ear as he leaned in.
I tipped my head back, eyes locking on his.
His hand slid around me, two fingers finding that sensitive place and pressing it between them just enough to make my breath hitch.
At the same time, he pushed his hips forward, the first few inches of him landing inside of me.
The aching pressure I felt was immediately replaced with pleasure when Sebastian groaned.
Gods, I just wanted to make him feel good.
His movements were slow as I stretched to fit him until he was positioned inside of me completely. I couldn’t stop the moans that came out of me.
You were fucking made for me, he said through the bond as his rhythm grew faster.
Then his shadow form moved, too, falling in sync with his movements. Each thrust of both lengths sent pleasure to places I never knew could feel that way, filling me more than I’d ever been.
“Oh, gods!” My breathing grew more erratic. My magic responded like it recognized its counterpart. Heat surged up my spine, wild and bright, desperate to break free. My body trembled with the effort of holding it in.
Your hands, Violet, Sebastian said through the bond, his voice rough with command.
The command in the way he said my name made me whimper, but closed off every part of me, forcing the fire to my hands. Just when my hands glowed, his shadows wrapped around them, binding the fire, swallowing every violent flicker that escaped me.
“You’re doing so good, love.”
Release after release tore through me, each one burning brighter than the last. The fire came with every surge, until it began to fade—slowly, softly—leaving nothing behind but trembling limbs and smoke curling through the air.
By the time it was over, I was weightless. A puddle in Sebastian’s arms as he carried me from the water. When the world snapped back into silence, I realized I was shaking.
His voice was rough when he finally spoke. “You’re as strong as me.”
“I don’t think I can stop it anymore.”
“No, baby, you can’t.” He traced a thumb along my jaw, the starlight catching in his eyes that had finally shifted back to dusty-blue. “But we’ll learn to control it. Together.”
* * *
Morning light filtered through the Night Realm’s impossible sky, dew still clinging to the violet’s petals. Sebastian stood at the edge of the stone path, coat discarded, sleeves rolled back, shadows drifting low and slow around his feet.
My power was settled under my skin now. It wasn’t clawing anymore. Wasn’t pressing against my ribs like it needed out.
It was still there. Vast. Dangerous.
But quiet.
For now.
“You’re smiling,” I said as I stepped off the path and into the grass.
“I like watching you breathe without fighting yourself,” he said. “You’re welcome for that, by the way.”
Heat crept up my neck before I could stop it. I didn’t realize it was possible, but I felt even closer to him now. Like every barrier had been broken and I saw the raw version of him last night.
And I loved every dark part of him.
“So,” I said, forcing my voice steady. “Training.”
“Yes.”
I glanced around. “Why the garden?”
“Incentive.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Incentive for what?”
He tipped his chin toward a cluster of pale flowers near the edge of the path. Their petals were thin as breath, almost translucent in the morning light.
Fragile.
Understanding hit a second later.
“Oh,” I said flatly. “You’re threatening me with plants.”
“I’m motivating you,” he corrected easily. “I love this garden.”
I crossed my arms. “You have your Violet now. What do you need delicate little flowers for?”
He smirked. “They remind me of what it was like before you. And I’m not interested in ever going back to that,” he added, softer this time. “So yes. I’d prefer you don’t burn it down.”
My power stirred, and I clenched my hands out of habit.
He noticed.
“Don’t,” he said.
I exhaled. “I’m not doing anything.”
“You’re caging it,” he replied. “You don’t need to.”
I glanced down at my hands, then back up at him. “That’s easy for you to say. Your gifts want to listen.”
His mouth curved faintly. “They learned to. After they nearly tore me apart.”
“How?” I asked.
He lifted one hand, palm open.
The shadows responded instantly—but they didn’t lash.
They unfolded.
A measured release that spilled outward in a thin, shifting veil before drawing back in again, settling against him.
“I don’t force it down,” he said. “That’s how Sovereigns burn out. Or lose themselves.”
A tight breath slipped out of me. “I’ve been doing exactly that.”
“I know. You weren’t raised to hold something like this.”
“I’m a quick learner,” I muttered.
“Good.” He stepped back. “Then we start with release. Once you stop fighting it, we’ll teach it to listen.”
My pulse thudded once in my ears. “If I burn the violets—”
“You won’t,” he said. “Don’t think about fire. Or air. Or anything specific. Don’t give it shape yet.” His eyes held mine. “Feel it. Let it show you what it needs.”
The certainty in his voice steadied me. I closed my eyes.
Instead of shoving the heat down the way I always did—forcing it back behind bone and skin—I followed it.
For so long I had convinced myself control meant silence. That if I just thought hard enough, focused hard enough, I could master it with logic alone. But my gifts were led by my emotions.
The power shifted immediately, startled by the lack of resistance. Warmth spread across my ribs, then my shoulders, then down my spine in a slow, widening bloom. My breath hitched on instinct—but I didn’t clamp down. I didn’t shove it back.
I let it move.
I imagined opening a door instead of bracing against a wall.
The air around me shimmered. The flowers closest to me stirred, petals trembling as if brushed by a hand they couldn’t see. A faint breeze lifted through the garden, soft enough that no one beyond this path would notice.
“Again,” Sebastian said.
I inhaled.
Then exhaled—and this time, I let a fraction of the heat leave with it.
A low wave of warmth rolled outward through the grass. Dew evaporated in a soft, delicate hiss, curling into nothing. No flame followed. Just heat moving through the world the way it was meant to.
My knees nearly buckled.
“Oh,” I breathed. “That’s—”
“Yes,” he said, watching me carefully. “That’s it.”
Relief hit first.
Then awe.
Then the sharp, dizzying realization of how much I’d been carrying inside myself without understanding that I didn’t have to.
Emotion surged before I could smooth it down.
The power answered too fast.
The air thickened around me, pressing outward in a pulse that made the nearest flowers bow sharply, their stems bending under sudden heat. Leaves curled at the edges.
Sebastian moved instantly. His hand closed around my wrist, and his shadows slid up my arm like cool water poured over embers.
“Breathe,” he said.
I pulled air into my lungs. The pressure eased from the air. The flowers lifted again, shaken but intact.
“That almost—”
“But it didn’t,” he said calmly. “Because you felt it before it broke.”
I laughed once, breathless. “I can’t believe you’re trusting someone with your favorite flowers.”
He looked at the garden. Then back at me. “I trust you.”
“How romantic,” I said, rolling my eyes.
That earned me a smile before he said, “When you feel it, you let it out just like that. Heat won’t hurt anyone. Fire will.”