Chapter 37
Violet
The morning after the trial, I woke with a decision already made.
I'd dreamed of Julian again. Not the heated, desperate dreams of the past month, but something quieter. We'd been sitting together in a sunlit room, just talking. Nothing dramatic, nothing earth-shattering. Just... being together.
When I opened my eyes, I knew what I wanted to do.
I asked one of the staff members to deliver a message to Julian. Lunch in my room, if you're free.
Simple. Non-committal enough that I wouldn't feel trapped if I changed my mind. But an opening nonetheless. His response came back within minutes: I'll be there.
He arrived exactly at noon, carrying a tray of food that he set down on the table by the window. Lunch for two: grilled chicken salad, fresh bread, fruit, and two glasses of iced tea.
“I asked the kitchen to make something light,” he said. “Figured you might not have much of an appetite after... everything.”
He was right. My stomach was in knots.
We sat across from each other, and for a moment, neither of us spoke. The silence between us felt heavy, loaded with everything that had happened last night. Everything we'd done. Everything we’d said or hadn't said.
Julian looked different in the daylight streaming through my windows.
Less like the dark, dangerous figure who'd hunted me through the forest and more like...
just a man. A very, very attractive man who was currently watching me with a guarded expression, like he was worried about saying the wrong thing.
I picked at my salad, trying to find the words to start this conversation. The awkwardness between us was palpable, but it wasn't entirely uncomfortable. It felt more like anticipation.
“How was the post-trial meeting with the Council this morning?” Julian asked, finally breaking the silence.
“It was fine,” I said. “They told us the big secret about the Reapers in return for the secrets we gave them last night, and I pretended to look shocked like the other girls. Most of them, anyway. I noticed that one of them didn’t really look surprised.”
He nodded. “Sometimes Reapers choose a girl descended from one of the founding families, and those girls already know everything about the Club before the Selection.”
“Oh.” I frowned. “I thought you were supposed to pick someone with a more diverse background. New blood, or whatever Roman said.”
“It’s encouraged, but a Reaper’s pick is always his choice, no matter who she is,” he replied. “Take your friend Jeremiah, for instance. His stepfather’s first wife was from a founding family.”
“Oh, right. I remember him saying something about Daniel’s mother coming from a big old-money family,” I said, nodding slowly.
I took a slow sip of iced tea, weighing up my next words.
Then I cleared my throat and lifted my chin.
“So, um… I was wondering. Who would you have picked for the Selection if you hadn’t met me? ”
Julian smiled faintly, like he knew exactly why I was asking.
“That’s a good question,” he said, rubbing his jaw.
“And the honest answer is: I don’t know.
I always figured I’d pick someone the same way so many other Reapers do.
Based on pragmatic stuff. Not feelings. Because I never thought I’d…
” He trailed off. “Never thought I’d meet someone like you,” he finally continued.
“Or have those feelings. For anyone. You were a real surprise, Violet.”
His words settled over me, warm and confusing. A real surprise. He'd said it like I'd disrupted his entire life plan, thrown everything off course. But not in a bad way. A welcome way that had changed everything for the better.
I carefully set down my glass, mind spinning. There was still so much I didn't understand about us, about how we'd gotten here, about whether what I was feeling was real or just some twisted result of everything that had happened between us.
“There’s something else I’ve been wondering about,” I said softly. “Since last night.”
“Yeah?”
I cast my eyes downward and swallowed hard before I spoke up. “Do you think I’m like you?”
“Like me? Fuck no. You’re the complete opposite,” he said. “And that’s a good thing, by the way. Why do you ask?”
“Well, you heard my secret at the trial. You know what I did,” I said, voice shaking slightly. “So… at the very least, you must think I’m a complete hypocrite for finding the Reaper thing so shocking, when the whole time I’ve been a killer myself.”
Julian reached over and tilted my chin upward so I was forced to look at him. “You’re not a killer, Violet. And neither was your sister.”
“That’s not true. What we did to Neil… that makes us killers,” I said, voice barely above a whisper.
“At the time, we knew it was bad, but because we were so young, we didn’t really comprehend just how bad it was.
Then, as we got older, the guilt really set in.
Calista used to have horrible nightmares about it. ”
“About killing? Or about getting caught?”
“Both.” The word came out thick. “She felt even worse than I did, because the plan to get rid of Neil was originally her idea. I just… helped her do it. And helped her cover it up. So I’ve always seen us as equally culpable.
But she didn’t. The way she saw it was: she was the older sister, and therefore the one who should’ve been more responsible. It really tore her up.”
“I understand why you both felt bad for so long,” Julian said, nodding sagely.
“But I don’t see what you did as coming anywhere close to the things I do for the Club.
I see it as self-defense. Or rather, you were defending your mother who refused to defend herself.
It’s like you said last night. You and your sister thought it was only a matter of time until that man killed her. ”
“But pre-emptively killing him was still the wrong thing to do, wasn’t it?” I said, voice cracking slightly.
He shook his head. “I don’t think the world is that black and white, Violet,” he said.
“What you described… it’s a terrible situation to be pushed into at such a young age, and the fact that you two wound up making that decision tells me just how bad it was.
I think you both felt like you had no other choice. ”
I nodded, throat tight. “That was exactly how it felt at the time,” I said. “We knew we couldn’t tell our teachers at school, or go to the police ourselves, because Mom would’ve denied it the way she always did.”
“Exactly. So you did what you had to do to protect her.” Julian rubbed his jaw, face softening slightly. “So I guess you are like me, in that sense. You’d do anything to protect those you care about. The difference is, you actually feel remorse about it. Whereas I just see it as… necessary.”
He leaned back in his chair, studying me with that intense gaze that made my skin warm.
“That guilt you carry, and the fact that it haunts you… that tells me everything I need to know about who you are,” he went on. His voice dropped, becoming almost tender. “You're a good person, Violet. I knew that the first time I met you.”
Heat crept up my neck, and I looked away, uncomfortable with the certainty in his voice. “You couldn’t have known something like that just from looking at me or talking to me for five seconds.”
“I knew enough,” he said. “There's this… light about you. I noticed it that first day, when we met in the quad. You just…” He paused, seeming to search for the right words. “You radiated something. Warmth and kindness. Even when you were clearly uncomfortable.”
“That's a pretty romanticized view of someone you were assigned to spy on,” I said.
“I didn’t know who you were back then,” he replied, shaking his head. “All I knew was that you were the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen.”
My brows shot up, and I looked at him sharply. “You didn’t know who I was that day?”
“No. I was given the assignment to spy on you later that afternoon,” he said. “When I first saw you and decided I wanted you… we were true strangers then.”
The implication of his words hit me hard.
He'd wanted me before he knew who I was. Before the assignment, before the spying, before any of it. His interest in me—the thing that led to everything else—had been genuine. Not manufactured by the Club's orders. Not part of some manipulation.
Just attraction. Pure and simple and real.
“Oh,” I breathed, not knowing what else to say.
Something in my chest had suddenly loosened, just a little. It didn't erase everything that had come after our first encounter, but knowing that the seed of it all, the very beginning, had been real... that mattered somehow.
Julian seemed to sense my shift in mood, because he reached across the table and took my hand. “I wanted to ask you something,” he said, eyes flickering with curiosity. “How are you feeling after everything that happened between us last night?”
“About you, you mean?”
He nodded. “Lay it on me,” he said, lifting his free palm. “I can take it, even if it’s bad.”
I took a deep breath, trying to organize the chaotic swirl of emotions in my chest. “Honestly… I’m really confused,” I finally said, head slowly shaking.
“I have feelings for you, and I always have on some level, even though I never wanted to admit it before. And while you were gone over the last few weeks, I dreamed about you constantly.” I paused, forcing myself to meet his eyes. “But it wasn't all good.”
His brows drew together. “No?”
“Half of the dreams were—” I paused, searching for the right words.
“They were the kind that made me wake up missing you.” My face flushed, but I pushed on.
“But the other half were nightmares. About waking up drenched in blood and seeing threatening messages painted on my wall. About being watched and hunted and terrified.” My voice dropped to barely above a whisper. “About not feeling safe anywhere.”
A muscle ticked in Julian's jaw. He looked pained, almost stricken. “Violet, I would never threaten you,” he said, squeezing my hand tighter. “I know I scared you, with all the—”
“You did threaten me, Julian!” I cut in, voice rising again.
The words came faster now, pushed out by weeks of confusion and fear.
“I know you're saying you'd never do those things now, but you already did them, and that’s the problem!
It wasn't just the blood and the threats you wrote on my wall. You sent me those horrible texts as well, about needing to be taught a lesson, and—”
“Wait.” He dropped his hand from mine, confusion flooding his face. “Violet, I didn't do that. I swear.”
I blinked. “What?”
He lifted both his palms. “I admit, I put a camera in your room, a keylogger and tracker on your phone and laptop, and I followed you around a lot. Watched you constantly. And yeah, I broke into your dorm a few times,” he said, shifting uncomfortably.
“But I didn’t send you threatening messages, and I didn’t do that other shit, either. With the blood.”
My mind reeled. “It really wasn’t you?”
“No. I swear on my fucking life.” The intensity in his gaze was almost overwhelming. “I scared you with the stalking. I know that. But I never threatened you. Never tried to intimidate you.”
“But if it wasn’t you, then that means…”
The words died in my throat as the implication sank in.
My heart started hammering hard against my ribs, and I pushed myself to speak again, my voice hollow. “That means I’ve had another stalker this whole time.”