Chapter 6 #2
I think about the way she twisted the cook’s arm without hesitation. The way she stood up to her own mother tonight, meeting violence with cold fury. The steel in her eyes when she told me to stay away from her.
My wolf stirs with pride. She’s no pushover anymore. She fights back instead of cowering.
I don’t answer my friend, though.
Ethan studies me for a moment, then sits up straight. “I’ll be back to work tomorrow. So, I’ll see her.”
My head snaps up, eyes narrowing dangerously. “See her?”
He holds up his hands. “Just see. I won’t do anything else.” A pause. “You know, maybe once you’re the alpha, you can change the laws. Make Violet yours.”
I look down at my drink, my grip tightening so much that I’m surprised the glass doesn’t shatter.
I remember the way she looked when I opened the door to Alaric’s study and saw her standing there. The color draining from her cheeks as she processed what she’d heard me say. The pain in her eyes.
“Even if Violet is attracted to me,” I murmur, my voice dark, “she will never choose me.” I meet Ethan’s gaze. “I know the kind of betrayal she felt. It won’t happen.”
“The mate bond won’t let her stay away.”
“I’m not entirely sure she feels the bond.”
Ethan’s drink freezes halfway to his mouth. “That’s ridiculous. Of course she feels it.”
“She doesn’t show any signs other than simple desire.” The words taste bitter. “And her self-control can’t be better than mine. I truly believe she doesn’t feel it.”
“How is that possible?”
“I assume it’s because her wolf is so weak.” I down the rest of my drink and reach for the bottle yet again.
Ethan leans forward, his expression thoughtful. “She has never been able to shift, has she?” He reaches out and pats my shoulder. “It’s ironic. That you, who are so strong, were saddled with such a weak—”
I smack his hand away hard enough to make him wince. “Violet is anything but weak.”
The words come out more forcefully than I intend. More possessively.
My friend studies me for a long moment, his expression changing. “You have it bad for her.”
I don’t answer. Can’t answer. Because he’s right, and we both know it.
I signal toward the door. The server appears immediately, and I order another bottle.
Ethan sighs. “You’re going to regret this tomorrow.”
“Add it to the list.”
The new bottle arrives almost immediately. I pour myself another glass, and another, until the edges of everything start to blur. Until the ache in my chest becomes something I can almost ignore.
Almost.
Three days pass in a haze of forced distance.
I arrive before dawn and leave after midnight.
My office becomes a cage where I lock myself inside, where I keep my eyes averted.
I track Violet’s presence by sound alone.
The rhythm of her typing. The soft click of her heels when she moves between desks.
The low murmur of her voice in conversation.
I don’t let myself look.
The warning I issued after Rachel’s coffee incident has worked. Nobody dares mess with Violet now. I catch the occasional hostile glare, mostly from Rachel, but nobody does anything.
Meanwhile, Violet is settling into the division with the same quiet competence she brings to everything. She tackles complex disputes with focus and grit, asks the right questions, makes connections others miss.
She keeps to herself. Eats lunch at her desk. Maintains those impenetrable walls she has built.
And she never, ever looks at me unless she has to.
It’s exactly what I wanted. Right?
Friday afternoon, I’m in the conference room early, setting up for the weekly inter-pack relations meeting. Alliance documents are spread across the table. Territorial maps. Reports from partner packs.
The room fills slowly. Marcus from Legal. Sarah and a few other analysts. They sit down with their coffee and notepads. I keep my focus on the materials in front of me, but I know the exact moment Violet walks in.
Her scent hits me first. That artificial perfume trying so hard to mask what’s underneath. My wolf stirs, but I force my breathing to stay even.
She takes a seat three chairs down on the opposite side. Far enough to ignore. Close enough that every breath is torture.
The door opens again.
“Sorry I’m late. Traffic was hell.”
Ryker Laurent.
The alpha heir of the Ravenhood Pack strides in like he owns the place, flashing his easy smile. Expensive suit. Perfect hair. Everything about him screams privilege.
My jaw tightens.
He’s here as part of the alliance conditions. Integration at the corporate level. Joint initiatives. It sounded good on paper. In practice, it means dealing with his presence in my space.
He takes the seat directly across from Violet. My hands curl into fists under the table.
“Shall we begin?” I keep my voice level.
I launch into the overview. Territorial updates. Alliance progress. The new joint project with Silverwood Pack. It’s all routine. Boring. The kind of meeting that usually ends without incident.
But then, Ryker speaks up.
“Before we move on,” he says, leaning forward, “I’d like to present some findings from the Ravenhood side. We’ve been analyzing the Silverwood territory dispute, and I think we’ve found a solution.”
I give him a short nod. “Go ahead.”
He moves to the front of the room with easy confidence. His presentation is polished. Graphs, data points, legal precedents, all neatly organized.
But I’m not watching the screen. I’m watching the way his eyes keep drifting to Violet.
Subtle glances. Strategic pauses. The kind of thing most people wouldn’t notice.
But I notice everything when it comes to her.
Ryker clicks to the next slide. “Now, this clause here is interesting. It’s an old provision from the original alliance agreement, but it’s never been invoked. If we apply it to the current dispute—”
“That provision is outdated,” Violet says quietly.
Everyone turns to look at her.
She doesn’t flinch. Just meets Ryker’s gaze steadily. “The treaty was amended twelve years ago. Section 4.7 supersedes that clause entirely.”
Silence.
Ryker blinks. “I—Are you sure?”
“Positive.” She pulls out her tablet, and her fingers move quickly across the screen. “The amendment is in the archives. I can pull it up if you’d like to verify.”
A slow smile spreads across Ryker’s face. “No need. You’re absolutely right.” He addresses the room, but his eyes stay on her. “I apologize for the oversight. Good catch.”
Violet nods once and looks back down at her notes.
But Ryker isn’t done.
“I’m impressed,” he says, his tone warm. “How long have you been working in this division?”
“Two weeks.”
His eyebrows rise. “Two weeks, and you already know the treaty amendments better than I do?” He laughs. “That’s remarkable.”
“Can we continue?” I cut him off, my voice sharp.
Ryker glances at me with a hint of a grin still on his lips, then nods and returns to his presentation. But he keeps finding excuses to direct questions toward Violet. Asking her opinion. Complimenting her insights. Drawing her into the discussion.
And she responds. Professionally. Politely. Her answers are precise and thoughtful, demonstrating intelligence that makes my chest ache.
My wolf preens with pride I try to ignore. I grip the edge of the table hard enough that the wood groans.
The meeting drags on. Every minute is torture. With every smile Ryker gives Violet, with every answer she provides, I feel my control slipping another notch.
Finally, we reach the end.
“That covers everything,” I say, my voice tight. “Meeting adjourned.”
People gather their things. Papers shuffle. Chairs scrape.
I organize my own materials with deliberate slowness. Normally, I’m the first one out, but today, my hands take their time with documents that are already perfectly aligned.
Because Ryker’s still here.
Still leaning back in his chair with that easy smile, making no move to leave. His eyes track Violet as she organizes her notes.
He’s waiting for everyone else to leave. Waiting to get her alone.
Sarah calls out, “Have a good weekend, Darius.”
I nod without seeing her.
Marcus makes a joke about happy hour. Laughter fades down the hallway.
The room empties. But I stay rooted in place, shuffling through the same documents, my jaw clenched so tight, it aches.
Violet focuses on gathering her things. Her tablet. Her folder. Her pen. Like she doesn’t notice both Ryker and I are still here. Like she doesn’t feel the tension crackling in the air.
The door swings shut behind the last analyst. The room goes quiet.
Violet reaches for her bag.
Ryker pushes off from his chair.
Every muscle in my body locks.
“Violet.” His voice is smooth. Easy.
She looks up, her expression polite but distant. “Yes?”
“I wanted to catch you before you left.” He moves toward her, stopping near her chair. Close. Too close. “You really saved me back there. I would’ve looked like an idiot if you hadn’t corrected me.”
My fingers tighten on the papers in my hand, crumpling them.
Violet gives him a small, professional smile. “It was nothing. Just doing my job.”
“Still.” Ryker leans against the table now, angling his body toward her. Casual. Comfortable. “I meant what I said. You clearly have a deep understanding of the alliance structures. I’d love to pick your brain sometime.”
I should leave. Should walk out before I lose control. But my feet won’t move. Not while he’s looking at her like she’s something he wants to own.
Violet starts to respond, but Ryker continues, his voice dropping to a warmer level. “There’s this great coffee place a few blocks from here. Quiet. Good for conversation.” He tilts his head, that smile widening. “What do you say? Tomorrow morning, maybe? Or lunch if that works better.”
My vision tunnels. All I can see is him. Standing too close. Smiling like he has any right. Like she’s not…
MINE.
The pen in my hand breaks in two with a loud crack. The sound cuts through the air like a gunshot.
Both of them snap their eyes to me.