Chapter 32 Kane
Kane
Violet hovers at the threshold of the living room, her posture tight like she’s ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble. There’s an energy rolling off her that reminds me of a trap about to spring.
She’s trying not to show it, but I know her now. The little tells– the way her fingers curl into the hem of her jacket, the tight set of her jaw. It’s all there, plain as day.
She hasn’t made any move to come closer, and honestly, I don’t blame her.
We left too much unsaid on the drive back this morning.
Silence stretched between us the whole way, neither of us speaking unless it was absolutely necessary.
Then I spent the entire day half-focused at work, replaying the look on her face after Whit left over and over in my head.
If I’d been smarter, I would’ve forced this conversation out into the open before it had a chance to fester. But I’m not always as smart as I think I am.
“Want a drink?” I ask, pushing up from the couch before she can answer. I cross to the bar cart in the corner, pulling down two heavy glasses from the shelf.
She watches me move, her expression carefully blank. “Sure.” She shrugs out of her jacket and tosses it over the back of a chair before wandering over to the couch, dropping onto it with a heavy exhale.
I pour a double for us both, carrying the glasses back over. She takes hers without a word, cradling it in her palm and turning it slowly like she’s trying to read the future in the amber swirl. I settle onto the opposite end of the couch, leaving a healthy distance between us for now.
I’m not sure whether it’s for her benefit or mine.
She throws back half the whiskey in one go, then wipes her mouth with the back of a hand, the movement almost violent. When she sets the glass down on the coffee table, I notice the faint tremble in her fingers.
I rest my arm along the cushions behind her– not touching, just there. A silent offer that she ignores, tucking her legs beneath her.
“Look,” I start, forcing my tone as neutral as possible. “I’m sorry about last night. I know we said no attachments. I shouldn’t have forced the family thing on you. If it made you uncomfortable–”
She cuts me off with a sharp snort. “That’s what you think this is about?”
Of course she’d try to avoid actually talking about the elephant in the room.
My jaw ticks, but I keep my expression carefully blank. “I should’ve asked you,” I say evenly, not letting her deflect. “About Whit. About the dinner.”
She shakes her head, picking up her glass again and frowning into the last inch of whiskey left inside. “I didn’t mind. Honestly.” She tosses back the whiskey, then glances up at me, eyes narrowing just slightly. “Your brother’s cool. Kind of a show-off, but not the worst.”
I lift a brow. “Not the worst?”
She shrugs. “I’ve met a lot of assholes, Kane. Whit doesn’t crack my top ten.”
A reluctant chuckle escapes me. “We’re close,” I say, even though she didn’t ask. “Always have been. Especially since…”
“Since your parents died,” she murmurs, finishing the thought before I can.
I nod once and swallow the rest of my whiskey, the burn settling low in my chest. For a second, I consider pouring another, but I need a clear head for this conversation.
She studies me quietly for a moment before asking, “Is he an enforcer too?”
“No,” I answer immediately. “Pack enforcement isn’t really his thing.”
“Huh.” She rolls her empty glass between her palms, staring down into it like the answer might be hiding there. “What is his thing?”
“Trouble,” I mutter before I can stop myself.
Her lips twitch. “Yeah, I picked up on that.”
Silence settles between us again. Not comfortable, not hostile, just… waiting.
Finally, she looks back up at me, eyes sharp. “How was work?”
“Fine,” I mutter. “Routine.”
She tilts her head, blue eyes searching mine. “Did you tell Alpha about Eclipse Underground?.”
“No. Like I told you before, I’ll handle it privately.”
“Because it could implicate me,” she muses.
I nod.
She nods too, like she already expected that answer, but there’s something else simmering under the surface now. Something she hasn’t said yet.
“Would you stick your neck out like that for anyone else?” she asks carefully, searching my face.
“Very few people,” I admit.
“Is your brother one of them?”
“Absolutely,” I answer without hesitation. “He’s family.”
She nods again, reaching forward to set her glass on the coffee table, and I swear I can see the gears in her head turning. Whatever she’s building toward, it’s going to hurt.
I set my empty glass down and fold my hands together, leaning forward slightly. “Just ask me what you want to ask, Violet.”
She stiffens, the reaction small but unmistakable, before she smooths her expression into something that looks almost innocent. “Ask you what?”
“Don’t play games,” I grumble. “You’ve had that look since last night.”
Her gaze slips away from me, drifting toward the floor-to-ceiling windows across the room. The city glows behind the glass, thousands of lights scattered across the skyline, their reflections shimmering faintly in her eyes.
And in that moment, something inside me settles into place.
She knows.
I’m not sure how she figured it out, but Violet is sharper than most people realize. She sees things others miss. And now she’s looking at the city like she’s trying to decide what to do with the puzzle she’s pieced together.
I push to my feet, collecting both our empty glasses from the coffee table and heading back toward the bar cart. The quiet clink of glass fills the room while I uncap the whiskey decanter and pour another round, the amber liquid catching the light as it rises in each glass.
“You think I don’t know who my brother really is?” I ask quietly, my back still turned to her as I recap the decanter.
The question hangs in the air between us as I pick up both glasses and turn back around. When our eyes meet, hers are wide, tinged with fear.
I take a slow sip of the whiskey as I walk back over to the couch and settle beside her again, a little closer than before. “We all play our parts,” I sigh, handing her the glass before lifting my own to my lips again. “Some better than others.”
Violet just stares at me, the color draining from her face. “You… why… how…?” The words fall out in fragments, like her brain can’t quite catch up with the conversation.
I reach over and rest my hand on her thigh, the tension in her muscles easing almost immediately beneath my palm. “I really didn’t want this to happen,” I admit quietly before finishing the rest of my whiskey and scrubbing my other hand over my face.
She recoils slightly at that, her expression tightening like I’ve just confirmed her worst fear.
I give her thigh a reassuring squeeze. “I’d never want to put you in danger,” I tell her. “But just knowing what you do now puts you in a… complicated position.”
She blinks at me, still struggling to process everything. “How long have you known your brother was–” The word catches in her throat. She swallows hard before forcing it out, voice barely a whisper. “Rogue.”
The name lands between us like a stone dropped in still water.
“Long enough.”
The air rushes out of her as she sinks back into the couch cushions. “Are you going to turn him in?” she asks, voice strained.
“No.” I recline back, studying her face. “Why do you think it’s so important for me to stay in this position? I filter everything before it ever reaches Alpha.”
She takes a moment to process that, her fingers drumming restlessly against her thigh. “So what are you, then?” she asks. “A spy? A double agent?”
“I’m the Commander. My job is to maintain order and keep people alive. Sometimes that means playing both sides of the board.”
She shakes her head slowly, dark hair slipping forward to curtain part of her face. “Jesus.”
I shift closer on the couch, my thigh brushing hers. “You think I like this?” I murmur. “You think I enjoy walking a tightrope every day, knowing one bad step could put a knife in my back?”
She’s staring at me like she’s seeing a stranger, and I can’t blame her. Some days I barely recognize the man staring back at me in the mirror.
She swallows hard before asking the question I knew was coming.
“So where do your loyalties really lie, Kane?”
It’s the one thing I hoped she wouldn’t ask, and also the only question that actually matters.
"With you," I reply firmly. “And with Whit.” I reach for her hand, catching her restless fingers and stilling them in my palm. “And with the pack. As it should be.”
She’s trembling now, just a little. “Are you with the rebels or against them?”
“I’m with change. This pack needs it more than anyone wants to admit.”
A bitter laugh escapes her. “That’s resistance propaganda if I’ve ever heard it. You sound just like Rogue.”
“Maybe he got it from me.” I squeeze her hand, hoping it grounds her.
“Alpha Gage used to be a good man. I believed in him when I joined pack enforcement. I spent years trying to nudge things in the right direction from the inside.” I pause, shaking my head.
“But he wouldn’t budge. The veil started to lift, and I saw things for what they really were.
The bad decisions, the senseless casualties.
My parents included. And as time passed, there were only more rules, more violence, less freedom.
Whit saw it sooner than I did. He was right to start pushing back.
” I blow out a slow breath. “I just wish I could do more to help him.”
She pulls her hand free, curling inward like she’s trying to protect something fragile inside her chest. “So all this time, you’ve been working both sides.”
“I’ve been trying to keep people from getting killed,” I snap, frustration bleeding through.
“If Whit does this alone, it ends in a bloodbath. But if I’m here…
” I gesture to indicate the Tower around us.
“I can control the variables. I can slow things down. Give Whit time to build something real instead of watching the whole pack tear itself apart.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asks, voice breaking.
“Because it’s safer for you not to know.” I drag a hand down my face, exhaustion settling into my bones all at once. “Just knowing puts you in danger, Violet. The last thing I wanted was for you to get caught up in this.”
She’s quiet for a long moment, her jaw working like she’s chewing on something bitter. “The warehouse,” she says finally. “The rebel raid. Was that real, or just part of your game?”
“That intel came in too late,” I grumble. “I tried to stop it. Couldn’t.”
She nods slowly, like she already knew the answer and just needed to hear me say it.
“It was a big hit to the rebellion,” I continue, holding her gaze.
“Set us back at least six months. Not that change will happen quickly anyway. If this is going to work, if we’re going to dismantle pack leadership the right way, without a war, it’ll take time.
We’re estimating five years, maybe more. ”
She absorbs that with quiet resignation. I reach for her knee, wrapping my hand around it and holding on tight.
“I’m sorry you got pulled into this,” I murmur. “I know being Paired was a punishment for you, but it was one for me, too. A reminder of my place.”
She jerks away immediately, blue eyes blazing.
I catch her chin before she can turn away completely, forcing her to meet my gaze. “I don’t see it as a punishment anymore,” I add quickly. “Not now. Not with you.”
Violet stares back at me, breathing hard.
“I never wanted a mate,” I admit. “Not with everything else I’m juggling. But if I have to have one…” My thumb brushes along the edge of her jaw. “I’m glad it’s you.”
The words come easier now that I’ve started, falling from my lips like a confession.
“I was losing sight of why any of this mattered,” I continue. “Everything had started to feel like strategy and damage control, just moving pieces around a board and hoping the whole thing didn’t collapse.” I exhale slowly. “Then you showed up and reminded me what the fight is actually for.”
Her eyes flicker.
“You brought a spark back into my life, Violet,” I say, voice softening. “And I don’t think I realized how much I needed that. Needed you. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me.”
She’s quiet for a beat, then presses her fists into her eyes and drags them down her face.
“I understand if this changes things between us,” I add.
“Yeah,” she says with a shaky laugh. “It does.” She lowers her hands and looks at me, her blue eyes bright now instead of angry. “But not in a bad way.”
I arch a brow, caught off guard. “Yeah?”
She nods, almost shy, and I can’t stop the smile that tugs at my mouth. She glances away and takes another sip of her whiskey before leaning forward to set the glass on the table.
“What if this was all too much,” she asks slyly, “and I just walked out that door?”
“I’d still protect you,” I answer without hesitation. “Always.”
Her eyes narrow. “Why?”
“Because you’re my mate.”
She sighs, and I can almost feel the tension draining out of her shoulders. “I still think you’re a manipulative bastard,” she mutters.
The corner of my mouth lifts. “I know.”
“And I’m still mad at you for not telling me.”
A chuckle rumbles in my chest. “Wouldn’t expect anything else.”
She lifts her chin, studying my face like she’s making a mental list of future grievances. “You’re not off the hook, Kane. Not by a long shot.”
I lean in and smack a kiss on her lips, just because I can. “Wouldn’t have it any other way, mate.”
She shoves me, but there’s no real force behind it. I let the push move me back an inch before catching her again and pulling her into my arms.
This time, she doesn’t fight it.
This time, she stays.