Chapter 34
Julian
The door was locked, but that didn’t matter.
I slammed my shoulder into it with enough force that the old iron hinges groaned in protest. Once. Twice. On the third hit, the lock gave way with a sharp crack, and the door burst open, slamming against the stone wall behind it.
Roman shot to his feet, eyes wide. Violet was sitting against the far wall, looking up at me with an expression I couldn’t quite read. But she was alive. Breathing. Whole.
The relief that crashed through me was so intense it nearly brought me to my knees. But the rage… god, the rage was still there, burning beneath my skin.
“Julian—” Roman started.
“Shut the fuck up.” I crossed the cell in three strides, my eyes locked on Violet. I dropped to a crouch in front of her, my hands hovering near her face but not quite touching it, like I was afraid she'd shatter if I did. “Are you hurt?”
“No, I'm fine,” she said. “Really.”
I searched her face for any sign of injury, any hint of fear or pain. Her pupils weren't dilated beyond what the dim lighting would explain. No bruising on her face or neck. No blood. No obvious signs of distress beyond the general dishevelment from being unconscious and dragged down here.
“He drugged you,” I said, my voice low and dangerous. I looked over my shoulder at Roman. “You fucking drugged her.”
“Yeah, I did,” Roman said softly. “And I'm sorry. But I needed to talk to her, and I knew you wouldn't let—”
“You're right. I wouldn't have let you anywhere near her.” I rose slowly, turning to face my brother fully. Every muscle in my body was coiled tight, ready to strike. “I know you're my brother, Roman, but if you've hurt so much as a single hair on her head, I will kill you. I swear to god I will.”
“Julian!” Violet's voice cut through my rage, and I felt her hand on my arm, tugging gently. “Stop. Please. He really didn't hurt me.”
I looked down at her, confusion momentarily overwhelming the anger. “Violet…”
"We talked. That's all.” She stood, positioning herself slightly between Roman and me. “And... we're okay now."
I blinked. “Did you say we’re okay?”
“Yes, we’re okay. Like… with each other,” she replied, though she sounded almost as bewildered as I felt. “We talked things through.”
“Talked things through,” I repeated slowly, like the words were in a foreign language. “You talked things through with the man you believe is responsible for killing your sister.”
“I don’t think he killed her. Not anymore,” Violet said. There was a certainty in her voice that made me pause. “I believe him, Julian.”
I stared at her, then at Roman, then back at her. My mind was reeling. When I burst in here a moment ago, I'd expected to find her terrified, possibly hurt, definitely furious. Instead, she was... defending him?
“Roman,” I said, not taking my eyes off Violet. “What the hell did you say to her?”
“I told her everything I had to,” Roman said quietly. “About Cal. About the Selection. The Reapers.”
My blood ran cold. “Reapers? Are you fucking serious?”
“She needed to know,” he said. “And I needed her to believe me. So yes, I told her about the Reapers before the Eleusinian ritual. I broke the rules.” His voice dropped. “Just add it to the list of things I've fucked up.”
I dragged a hand through my hair, trying to process this. Roman had revealed everything—the wife hunt, the assassins, all of it—before Violet had even started her training. The Council would lose their goddamned minds if they found out.
But looking at Violet's face, the way she was standing there so calmly, without fear...
“You actually believe him?” I asked her. “You’re not just saying that?”
She nodded. “No one could fake the kind of grief he showed me,” she said. “He loved my sister. Really, truly loved her.”
I looked at my brother again. His eyes were red-rimmed, his face blotchy. He looked like he'd been crying. Hell, he looked like he'd been crying for a year straight.
“I was never going to report you to the Council,” he said, meeting my gaze.
“I was just shocked and angry. But I would never...” He swallowed hard.
“You're my brother, Julian. And you're the only one who's ever believed that I didn't kill Cal. Until today.” His eyes flicked to Violet, then back to me. “Until her.”
His face crumpled then. His shoulders started shaking, and I saw him fighting it, trying to hold back the tears that were already spilling down his cheeks.
“Fuck,” he choked out. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't—”
“It’s fine,” I said gruffly, my anger deflating like a punctured balloon. I closed the distance between us and gripped his shoulder. “You lost the only woman you’ve ever loved. So you can cry as much as you fucking want. I'm not judging you.”
“Neither am I,” Violet said softly.
“I'm sorry about what I said before,” I added in a low voice. “About it being your fault. I didn't mean it.”
“But it is my fault,” Roman said, his voice thick. “It is. I fucked everything up.”
I shook my head. “I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again. Cal’s blood isn’t on your hands. It’s on the hands of whoever killed her.”
He shook his head. “I'll always believe it was my fault,” he said, dabbing at his face with his sleeve. “I'll never forgive myself.”
We stood there in silence for a moment. Then Violet spoke again, her voice soft but clear. “When this is all over, and I go back and visit home in California... I can put your ring on Calista's grave,” she said. “The one she was holding when she died. If you want that, I mean.”
Roman's head snapped up, eyes widening. “Really?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “Or you could come with me and do it yourself.”
Fresh tears spilled down Roman's face, but he was smiling now. A broken, devastated smile, but a smile nonetheless. “Thanks,” he murmured. “That... that means more than you know.”
I felt something shift in the air between the three of us. An understanding. An alliance. Whatever happened next, we were in this together.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said, glancing at the broken door. “I think we could all use a drink.”
Roman wiped his face with his sleeve, trying to pull himself together. “Hold on. There's something else you should know,” he said, his voice still rough. “Violet's agreed to stay and go through the training. So you don’t have to worry about her trying to escape, or anything like that.”
I looked at her, brows rising. “You want to stay?”
She nodded. “For now. Roman explained why it's safer this way.”
“She's staying willingly,” Roman emphasized, looking at me. “So you don't need to keep her under total lock and key. She's not going to run or cause any problems for you with the Council.”
I studied Violet's face, searching for any sign of deception or malice. But all I saw was determination, and beneath that, the smallest flicker of something else when she met my eyes. Something that made my chest tighten.
“I’m glad to hear it,” I said slowly. I stepped closer to her and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. She stiffened but didn’t pull away. “Let’s go back upstairs now.”
Roman led the way through the labyrinth, his footsteps echoing off the damp stone. I kept Violet close, hyperaware of every inch of contact between us. Her hip against mine, the way she matched my stride, the warmth of her body seeping through her clothes.
I leaned down, my lips brushing the shell of her ear. “I knew you'd decide to stay in the end,” I murmured. “Though I did enjoy you throwing things at me earlier when you still wanted to escape. You’re sexy when you’re mad.”
She pulled away, putting some space between us. “Just to be clear,” she hissed. “I’m only staying for everyone’s safety, and also so your brother and I can help each other find Cal’s killer. That’s it.”
I smirked. “Of course.”
“It doesn't mean anything else. It doesn't mean I'm going to be with you,” she went on, eyes flashing. “So you should get that idea out of your head right now. Kill whatever feelings you think you have for me.”
I laughed, and the sound echoed through the corridor, making Roman glance back at us.
“Oh, Violet,” I said, catching her hand and pulling her back against me before she could protest. My mouth found her ear again.
“You're going to be my wife. And you’re going to choose that for yourself. You just don't know it yet.”
She tried to jerk away, but I held her firm.
“In case Roman didn’t tell you this already…
the training takes three months,” I whispered.
I pressed a kiss just below her ear, feeling her shiver despite herself.
“Three months of me showing you exactly what it means to be mine. Once it’s over, you will make that choice in the end, and you’ll be happy to do it. You’ll see.”
I released her then, letting her put some distance between us again. She was breathing hard, cheeks flushed, eyes blazing with fury. God, she was beautiful when she was angry.
“Come on,” I said, voice casual as if I hadn't just felt her pulse racing beneath my lips. “We don't want to be late for dinner.”
As we climbed the stairs toward the main level, I couldn't stop the smile spreading across my face.
She was staying. She was mine. And soon, she'd finally realize it too.