Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Darius
I wake before dawn in Violet’s bed, my wolf content as her warmth radiates against my side. Her dark hair spills across my chest, and all I want is to pull her closer, to never let go.
But I need to move. I need to think.
I extract myself carefully, watching as she burrows deeper into the blankets with a soft exhale. My chest tightens at the sight. This woman is destroying every wall I’ve ever built, and I’m letting her.
The bathroom offers cold tile and colder water. I turn the shower as hot as it will go and try to sort through the chaos in my head.
Following her to that club wasn’t exactly hard. I got the taxi’s license plate from her building’s security footage and tracked it down through the company’s database. Simple. Efficient.
I sigh, bracing my hands against the tile as water pours down my back.
Stalking. That’s what this was. I actually stalked my own mate like some obsessed teenager who can’t control himself.
But watching her dance, seeing those human males circle around her like predators, their eyes devouring her body…
My hands curl into fists at the memory. The rage that flooded through me was primal, violent. I wanted to rip them apart for daring to look at her that way, for even breathing the same air as her.
I know it’s irrational. My wolf’s possessiveness is amplified because she doesn’t carry my mark.
The mating mark wouldn’t deter human men; they wouldn’t even be able to see it, much less understand what it means.
But my wolf would know she is claimed. And that knowledge alone would pacify him.
It would stop this constant need to eliminate every perceived threat.
But she doesn’t carry my mark. And until she does, my wolf will see every male as competition.
I turn off the water, grab a towel, and rub it roughly through my hair. This is getting out of hand. I’m getting out of hand.
I catch my reflection in the mirror, water still dripping down my chest. My jaw is tight with tension, and my eyes have that wild edge that comes from my wolf riding too close to the surface.
“You’re pathetic,” I mutter to my reflection.
I’m toweling off when I notice the amber bottle on the counter. My wolf perks up, curious. Violet’s scent clings to it.
I shouldn’t. I know I shouldn’t.
I pick it up anyway.
The bottle is small and unmarked except for a handwritten label I can’t quite make out.
The cap twists off easily, and the smell makes my wolf’s hackles rise instantly.
Some herbs I recognize, others I don’t, all mixed into something that causes warning signals to go off in my head.
My wolf recoils, growling low in my chest, but I don’t understand why. It’s just some medication. Isn’t it?
“What are you doing?”
Her voice pierces the tiled room around me. I turn my head to find Violet in the doorway, wrapped in a sheet, panic flickering across her face.
She moves faster than I expect, snatching the bottle from my hands. “You can’t just go through my things.”
“I wasn’t going through your things. It was sitting right there.” I keep my voice calm even as questions flood my mind. “What is that, Violet?”
“Nothing.” She clutches the bottle against her chest. “Just medicine.”
“There’s something off about it.” I take a step closer, and she retreats the same distance. The movement guts me. “Talk to me.”
“Of course it smells off to you.” Her jaw sets in that stubborn line I’m learning means she’s rebuilding walls. “You’ve probably never had to take any medicine in your life.”
She’s right. Shifters don’t get sick. Our healing keeps us healthy, strong, resistant to almost everything that plagues humans.
“What’s it for?” I press.
“I get sick very frequently.” She turns away, heading back into the bedroom. “My immune system is like a human’s even though I have shifter blood. These pills help keep me stable.”
I file that information away, along with a mental note to find out exactly what she’s taking. But I can see the defensive set of her shoulders, the way her fingers tighten on the bottle. If I push too hard, she’ll hide it. She’ll lock me out completely.
So, I change tactics. “Get dressed. You’re taking the day off work.”
She blinks at me. “What? I can’t just take a day off.”
“Since I’m your boss, that’s up to me.” I move past her into the bedroom, where my clothes lay in a heap from last night. Violet comes in as I start to pull on my pants. “You need a dress for the gala. Shoes. Jewelry. All of it.”
She gapes at me. “What gala?”
Oh. Right. I haven’t told her.
“There’s an event this weekend. It’s in Miami this year. The pack has to send delegates, and Father wants the two of us to go together.”
I watch confusion cloud her eyes.
“Why would he want me to go?”
To help you find a mate. The words hover on my tongue, bitter and unwelcome. That’s what he said. Expose her to other packs. Let her meet other wolves.
But I have no intention of helping her find anyone.
“Does it matter?” I say instead.
“I’m not going.” Her arms cross over her chest.
“You don’t get to decide that.” I give her an amused look. “Alpha’s orders.”
Her gaze sharpens. “I don’t have anything to wear.”
I bite back a smile at the obvious attempt at manipulation. “That’s why we’re going shopping.”
“I don’t have money for fancy clothes.”
“Don’t worry,” I say solemnly. “There’s a budget for you.”
All the fight leaves her posture, her body deflating slightly. I can see her running through other excuses in her head, trying to find a way out.
I close the distance between us and catch her chin, tilting her face up to mine. “We leave in twenty minutes. We’ll get something to eat on the way.”
She makes a face at me. “Why do we have to go shopping together?”
“Do you want to go ask the Alpha that?” I ask, and she blanches. “That’s what I thought.” I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, and she bats my hand away.
“Where are we going?” she asks, her tone carrying a hint of annoyance.
“I know some places here in the human district.”
That makes her stop and think for a moment. “Why here?”
“Because I know you won’t feel at ease shopping at shifter-owned stores.” I pull on my shirt. “I want you to be comfortable while we do this. Besides, humans have more creative designs than shifters. I’ve checked.”
She sneers. “Are you ashamed of being seen with me in the shifter business community?”
I raise a brow. “Not at all.” I begin walking toward the kitchen. “If you want to go to our shops, by all means—”
“No.” Her voice is quiet now, more subdued. “The human district is better.”
I smile slightly.
Stubborn little thing.
The human district sprawls across the western edge of our territory, where pack influence fades and human commerce thrives. Tall buildings, crowded streets, the constant hum of people who have no idea what walks among them.
I’m glad Violet agreed to shop here. I want to be able to be myself with her. I want to spoil her to the fullest extent without anyone watching, judging, interfering.
I park in front of an upscale boutique, ignoring Violet’s increasingly anxious looks.
“This place looks expensive,” she says.
“It is.” I come around to open her door, offering my hand. “The company’s covering it.”
“The company.” She takes my hand, but her gaze sharpens. “Your father’s company.”
“Pack business requires proper attire.” I guide her toward the entrance. “Consider it part of your benefits package.”
A sleek woman in all black greets us at the door. “Welcome to Meridian. How can we help you today?”
“She needs a dress for a gala,” I say, keeping my hand on the small of Violet’s back. “And everything that goes with it.”
The woman’s eyes light up with the particular gleam of someone who smells a large commission. “Wonderful. Right this way.”
Violet digs her heels in. “Darius, this is too much.”
“It’s necessary.” I lean down to murmur in her ear. “Besides, I want to see you in silk.”
Her breath hitches, and I feel the shiver that runs through her. Good.
The boutique transforms into a whirlwind of fabrics and suggestions. The saleswoman, who introduces herself as Margot, pulls dress after dress, each more stunning than the last. Violet touches them like they might shatter.
“Try this one first.” Margot holds up a deep emerald gown that would bring out Violet’s eyes. “The changing room is just through here.”
Violet gives me a vulnerable look. “You’re staying?”
“Unless you want me to leave.” I settle into one of the plush chairs facing the changing area. “But I have opinions about what you should wear.”
“Of course you do.” But under the sarcasm is relief. She takes the dress and disappears behind a curtain.
I force myself to breathe through the wait. To focus on anything except the fact that she’s naked behind that thin barrier.
The curtain slides back, and my wolf goes absolutely still.
The emerald dress hugs every curve, dips low enough to hint at soft skin, and makes her look like some kind of forest goddess. She shifts uncomfortably, tugging at the neckline.
“It’s too much,” she says.
“It’s perfect.” My voice comes out rough. “But try the others anyway.”
She rolls her eyes. “We don’t have all day.”
“On the contrary.” I cross my arms over my chest.
She sighs, and I let my gaze travel over her slowly enough that her cheeks flush.
“Now, turn around. Slowly.”
“You’re so annoying. Let’s just pick one and go.” But she does it, and the way her body moves in the dress makes my mouth go dry.
She disappears again. The next gown is silver and makes her look ethereal. The one after that is black and makes me want to peel it off her immediately. By the fourth dress—a deep, wine red that should be illegal—I’ve given up any pretense of casual observation.
“What do you think?” She does a small turn, the fabric floating around her legs.
“We’re getting all of them.”
“What? No!” She plants her hands on her hips, and the movement makes the dress shift in interesting ways. “That’s insane. What about the budget?”