Chapter 5
Violet
The lunar cycle has a profound impact on shifters.
The moon calls to our inner wolves, strengthens them, and fortifies bonds.
When it’s full, it floods us with a rush of wild energy, compelling us to shift and run beneath its light with our pack.
It’s a ritual as instinctive and natural as breathing; one all of us typically look forward to.
The sheer size of the Chicago pack makes it impossible for us to all gather in one place, so every full moon, we’re split up and assigned to different forest preserves around the city.
I’ve always reported to Des Plaines for the full moon run, but tonight, I’ve been assigned to Forest Glen– the preserve where Alpha and the most prominent members of our pack run each month.
It’s also the preserve that hosts the quarterly Pairing ceremony, hence the assignment.
Forest Glen has always looked peaceful and idyllic in pictures, the kind of spot where couples come for picnics or engagement shoots under fall leaves. But stepping into it for the first time under a full moon, knowing I’m about to be mated off to a stranger?
Yeah. No peace here.
Just a long stretch of shadow-choked parking lot leading into the dark press of woods. There’s a faint hum in the air when Charlotte and I climb out of her car, like the whole place is holding its breath. Creepy and ominous; the perfect backdrop for a forced fate.
My official invitation to the Pairing tonight– well, summons, more like– extended to friends and family, so of course Char insisted on coming.
She claimed it’s for moral support, but from the way she’s clinging to my arm like a lifeline, I’m not entirely sure who’s supporting who here.
She looks two seconds from a breakdown, even though I’m the one being marched toward a life I didn’t choose. She’s just along for the panic attack.
“You good?” I ask as we cross the lot, flickering her a sideways glance.
“No,” she sniffles, wiping her eyes with a mascara-stained sleeve. “This is so unfair, Vi. We’ve gotta try to talk to Alpha, see if he’ll reconsider…”
“That’d imply he’s actually reasonable,” I scoff. “Or that we could get within breathing distance of him.”
“Then I’ll offer myself in your place,” she declares, lifting her chin with a burst of defiance. “This whole thing was my fault, so I’ll just–”
I yank Char to a stop, whipping around to face her. “No,” I say sharply, pulse taking off like a rocket. “If you do that, you’ll only implicate yourself right along with me. I’m not letting you throw away your future, Char.”
“But you’ll throw away yours?” she fires back, quick and wounded.
I scowl, something splintering in my chest. “I don’t have a choice,” I mutter, turning away and starting toward the preserve entrance again.
Her footsteps drum against the pavement behind me as she jogs to catch up, fingers curling around the crook of my elbow.
“I’m sorry, Violet,” she breathes, tugging me to a stop. I glance over, her hazel eyes shiny with tears. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It’s fine,” I say.
It isn’t.
I jerk my chin toward the entrance. “Let’s just get this over with.”
She sniffles, a tear sliding down her cheek as she links her arm with mine and we start forward again.
“You’ve gotta keep it together, babe,” I murmur under my breath, giving her a little nudge. “I’m gonna be okay. You know me, I always adapt. And if the guy I’m stuck with is awful, I’ll just shank him in his sleep.”
She snorts a laugh through her tears and I toss an arm over her shoulders, pulling her in.
Kinda fucked up that I’m the one being Paired here, yet she’s the one who needs comfort. Then again, that’s always been our dynamic– she’s emotional, reactive, and I’m the anchor. I’ve been through enough shit that I’ve learned to weather storms and stay remarkably calm in chaos.
As we approach the shadowed entrance to the preserve, more people come into view, clustered in groups and quietly murmuring amongst themselves.
Slivers of moonlight slice through the canopy of leaves overhead, catching on their profiles and only adding to the already sinister vibe.
I inhale slowly, steadying the shake in my hands as we step off the pavement and move to join them.
I’ve had over a month to mentally prepare for this Pairing, but instead, I’ve spent all that time spiraling.
Drinking, partying, pretending I don’t care.
Trying to get out of the city, out of this absolute nightmare of a sentence for the crime of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
I was so desperate I even went crawling back to my ex in Colorado, asking him to mate me so I’d be disqualified from the Pairing.
He turned me away, of course. Men love to look at me, flirt with me, and fuck me, but none of them ever actually choose me.
Not even my own father found me worth keeping.
He ran out on Mom and me when I was four, claiming he couldn’t handle the demands of parenthood anymore.
I tracked him down when I was a teenager, hoping to forge some sort of relationship, but he had a whole new family.
A mate, three pups, and the whole picture-perfect life.
Turns out it wasn’t parenthood he couldn’t handle. It was me.
So here I am, exactly where I was always going to end up. I don’t know why I thought there was ever a chance in hell things would turn out differently.
“Violet!” a familiar voice cuts through the crowd, the shrill tone making every muscle in my body lock up instantly.
Oh god.
My mother.
She materializes looking like a Stepford wife– hair perfect, dress tailored, wearing high heels in the damn woods.
“Mom, what are you doing here?” I blurt.
“What do you mean?” she scoffs, pressing a hand to her chest like I’ve mortally offended her.
“I was invited. My only child is getting mated, of course I’d want to be here to witness it!
” Her blue eyes shine with the bright, blissful delusion she lives in as they skim down my body.
“Honestly, Violet, couldn’t you have at least tried to make yourself presentable for the occasion? ” she tuts.
I wrap my arms around my middle, suddenly feeling twelve again under her scrutiny.
“I think she looks beautiful,” Char cuts in, flashing a smile so sweet it could give someone a toothache. Then she pivots my way, giving me an exaggerated once-over and whistling. “Total knockout. Your mate’s gonna need an EpiPen, because you’re gonna take his breath away.”
I roll my eyes, chuckling under my breath. Charlotte was singing a whole different tune back at the apartment when she tried to get me to dress up for this circus, but at least she’s got my back now. Even if that back is currently clothed in a threadbare, well-loved hoodie.
“Well, here’s hoping he’ll be well off enough to treat you to a new wardrobe,” Mom says, eyeing my cutoff denim shorts like they personally insulted her. “You could’ve at least covered up those tattoos,” she adds, lip curling as her gaze lands on my thigh piece.
One of my favorites.
“Here’s hoping her mate likes ink, then,” Char chirps, draping an arm over my shoulders.
“I don’t really give a shit what he likes,” I grumble.
Mom gasps dramatically, slapping her hand to her chest again. “Violet Grace!” she barks, going full parental on me. “How can you say that? To be mated to someone is an honor. You should be proud you have the privilege.”
“Mm,” I hum, shifting my weight. “Thrilled.”
She either ignores the sarcasm or pretends to. Hard to tell with her. Sometimes I wonder how someone can be so aggressively out of touch with reality, but for my mother, it’s always been a choice. She prefers her little fantasy world where everything’s clean and perfect and nothing ever hurts.
She gives me another once-over and heaves a long-suffering sigh, rubbing her fingers against her temple like my appearance alone is giving her a migraine. “Stand up straight with your shoulders back, at the very least. First impressions matter.”
I grit my teeth. If she weren’t my mother, I’d flip her the bird, turn around, and walk away right about now. But she’s the only family I’ve got, so I force a stiff nod instead, burying my own feelings in favor of keeping the peace between us.
A sudden ripple moves through the crowd– a shift in air pressure, a collective straightening of spines.
Alpha is here.
Gravel crunches beneath the tires of a black town car as it rolls up to the curb at the preserve entrance, the back door swinging open.
Alpha Gage steps out in a crisp black suit, radiating the kind of dominance that instantly presses against my inner wolf.
I instinctively lower my head, everyone around me doing the same as they gaze upon our leader with awe and admiration.
Clearly, everyone here is drinking the Alpha Kool-Aid. I’ve never been one for hero worship, but I can’t help the way my wolf responds to the dominant energy rolling off him as he starts toward us, pack officials falling in behind him.
One of them is Dr. Aspen. The sight of the man makes my stomach turn, scratching at the edges of a memory I don’t want to touch.
Last week, I underwent my ‘procedure’– a barbaric form of torture used to extract a shifter’s mating serum.
They fasten you to a table, strap electrodes to your body, and administer a high-voltage electric shock to bring your inner wolf forward.
As if that isn’t bad enough in itself, they then stick a needle into your gums and draw out the serum, which is a whole other kind of hell.
Your wolf fights it, mourns it, and after, it feels like a part of you is missing that you’ll never get back.