Chapter 41 #2
I sigh, sliding a new tray of beads closer to her. “He’s being dramatic,” I mutter. “He didn’t really steal anything. All he did was find creative means of acquiring this place. But it was all legal. Mostly.”
There may have been some forgery in there, but, at worst, it was a victimless crime. “You shouldn’t hold the manor against him,” I go on, bordering on beseeching. “I was the one who blew up our old life when my family imploded. He was just trying to build us a life raft.”
Understanding sifts through Violet’s jade gaze. “He also told me how you two met. About you, pretending not to be an omega.”
Shame seethes at my center. “Yeah,” I rasp. “I did that for”—ever—“a very long time.”
Her scent burns slightly. And—shit—I can’t take it.
My hand drifts into her space, brushing her quivering fingers. “It wasn’t Finn’s fault,” I murmur, waiting for her eyes to land on mine. “I think he believed he was doing something awful, making the deal we made… but I sort of tricked him.”
It’s the truth I’ve only ever told Atlas. Violet’s brows bunch, and I wince.
“I wanted to help him,” I admit. “You should have seen the guy, Violet. He had bowed and scraped his way to Columbia, but he had nothing. Not even a proper pair of slacks. I’d been watching him eat instant rice and peanut butter for two whole weeks.”
I shake my head, remembering. “It was a good deal for both of us. And once we made it, he did help me. Finn did everything he could to make me seem like a real pack alpha. For years.”
He didn’t even complain, for the most part. And, over time, he became the one real friend I’d ever had.
“I’ll miss him,” I realize, dropping my eyes to the tabletop. “When you guys go.”
I glance across our little workspace, noting the way Violet frowns at her alphas’ friendship bracelets. Her earnest sadness twists more words up my throat.
“I’m sorry that you guys won’t have a pack bond,” I scrape out. “I know you can’t make one without Atlas, now, and it’s”—my fault he can’t be part of it—“I’m sorry.”
She blinks, disbelief leaving her voice toneless. “I’m… sorry you and Atlas won’t have a bond, either.”
I know she is. She’s apologized every single day. And, really, that isn’t fair. I’m as much to blame for the fact that Atlas and I have no bond as she is.
Maybe more.
My Omega doesn’t speak to me again, but I feel him curl tighter with a whimper. Left to my own devices, my fingers still squeeze Violet’s gently. “Thank you. For always saying that.”
She swallows. “Thanks for letting me.”
I sniff to banish the sting between my eyes. Desperate for another subject, I note the letters she’s stringing onto her latest creation. B-R-I-A-R.
My aching heart flips. “I’m sorry about that, too,” I admit, nodding at her fingers. “The stuff with your sister… If you want to reach out to her, you shouldn’t let me stop you. It wasn’t right for us to ask you to wait.”
I did it when she was under duress. That was so wrong, but I was too pissed to care—and half-crazy from jealousy.
Violet smiles, though, the curve of her lips warm and genuine.
“I understand complex family stuff,” she says, rueful.
“I think… I actually think it’s been good for me to wait.
I didn’t feel like myself at all when I first got here—and I’m still not 100%.
I don’t want to come back into her life until I feel like me. ”
I listen, finding it uncanny how easily I understand her. “Then you’ll stay here until you’re ready,” I decide. “However long it takes.”
Violet’s smile dims. “I appreciate that, but you have my word: as soon as it’s safe for me to leave without hurting Atlas, I will.”
Don’t.
The word is insane. The opposite of everything I want and need.
So why is it practically burning a hole in the base of my throat?
I gaze at Violet, following the careful way she crafts a token for the sister she lost—the one she gave up, if only temporarily. For me. To make up for a mistake she’s not even fully responsible for.
When she finishes, she sighs, laying the three bracelets out in a row. Her expression takes on a nervous quality as she skirts her attention toward the pile of practice strands she completed before I joined her.
Only one of them is finished. Strung in shades of silver and ice, with six letters on it.
G-I-D-E-O-N.
An ache blooms behind my sternum when she slides it toward me. Our fingers brush. Electricity skitters up my arm and down my spine, landing between my hips. Perfume and slick follow, soaking into the special neutralizing boxers I’ve started wearing for moments exactly like these.
Violet doesn’t notice. She murmurs so quietly, it’s almost a whisper. “This one is for you.”
Suddenly, I can’t breathe. My voice turns hoarse. “You made this?”
“It was the first one I did,” she confirms, gracefully sliding to her feet. Catching stray afternoon sunbeams in her endless hair, her irises sparkle with wistfulness.
I can’t understand why—or how—anyone could be this fucking good. When I’ve been nothing but entitled and grumpy.
“Why?” I ask dumbly.
She pauses on the threshold of the room, flashing one last heartbreaking smile over her shoulder. “I don’t have any other friends.”