Chapter 17 #2
“Yes.”
I pad over to my side of the bed and sit on the edge. The soft robe feels comforting against my skin, but it does nothing to ease the tension coiling in my stomach.
Darius stands. “I have to step out for some pack business.”
Relief and disappointment battle inside me. “How long will you be gone?”
“A few hours.” He reaches for his jacket. “If you’re hungry, order room service. Or we can go out for dinner when I get back.”
“Okay.” As he crouches down to pull some files out of his bag, I study him. Suddenly, I find myself asking, “You said you’ve been to Miami before. Why? It’s got so many humans. I can’t see you coming here for a good time.”
He pauses, one hand on a file. There’s a shift in his expression as he glances at me. “Curious about me, Violet?”
My pulse quickens. “No. I was just making conversation. You don’t have to tell me. I don’t care.”
He puts the file down and straightens. As he walks toward me, his pace slow and predatory, nerves flutter in my belly.
“What are you doing?”
He comes to stand before me. My legs are slightly parted, and he wedges himself between them, forcing me to spread them.
I feel his hand stroke the top of my head.
My face is right at the level of his crotch, and I loathe myself for the way my lower muscles tighten in need.
He goes still for a moment, and I can see him discreetly sniff the air.
Threading his fingers through my hair, he wrenches my head back, and I gasp.
Leaning down, he brushes his lips against mine, and I can do nothing but moan, steadying myself by placing my hands on his thighs.
“You should really learn to be more honest with yourself, Violet,” he murmurs against my mouth. “I can smell how wet you are. How much you want to taste me.”
My nipples instantly harden, and I bite down on his lower lip.
He doesn’t so much as flinch, laughing lightly.
But he does pull away, regret in his voice.
“Unfortunately, I really do have to get going.” He smooths his suit, eyes running over me.
“To answer your previous question, being an alpha heir isn’t as simple as it seems. I have to work hard, study business practices, learn from allied packs about leadership.
I’ve attended several meetings here over the years. ”
My heart is still racing, but I try to pretend everything is fine, like he didn’t just tell me he knows exactly how turned on I am. “What kind of meetings?”
A pause. “The last time I was here, we discussed hybrid shifters.”
My brow furrows. “A meeting over hybrid shifters? Weren’t they outlawed many years ago?”
“They were.” Hardness enters his voice. “With good reason. They have a tendency to get very violent very quickly, especially when their magic manifests. They’re dangerous to normal shifters.”
A cold sensation slithers down my spine. “Dangerous how?”
“There was a massacre many years ago. Some shifters from our pack lived close to another pack that had hybrid shifters.” His jaw clenches as he speaks. “The hybrids attacked them out of nowhere. Killed everyone. Men, women, children. No one survived.”
My throat constricts. I’ve never met a hybrid shifter. I barely know anything about them except that they have both witch magic and shifter abilities. The combination sounds powerful, but a massacre?
“What did you talk about at the meeting?” I ask quietly.
“Some packs disagree with our policy of immediate execution when hybrids are discovered.” Matter of fact, emotionless. “We’ve gotten some packs on board, but there are those who resist. They think hybrids deserve a chance.”
“A chance at what?”
“Life.” He shrugs. “But I disagree.”
My ribs feel too tight. “Surely not every hybrid is dangerous.”
“Some creatures simply should not be allowed to exist.” The finality in his voice chills me.
I stare at him, really look at him. This is the cold heir I’ve seen with others. The one who makes harsh decisions without flinching. But this isn’t about pack politics or power struggles. This is about living beings.
“I find it disturbing you feel that way,” I say, holding his gaze.
No change in his expression. “You don’t know what hybrids are like. It’s easy to say when you’ve never faced one.”
“I’ve never faced a lot of things, but that doesn’t mean I’d condemn an entire group to death.”
“This isn’t up for debate.” Sharpness enters his voice. “I have to go. Don’t think about the issue, Violet. It’s not as if it will affect you.”
He walks out, closing the door behind him with a quiet click.
I sit frozen on the bed, still staring at the space where he was standing a moment ago.
“Don’t think about the issue.” As if I can simply forget what he said.
I fall back against the pillows, my mind racing. How can someone be so tender one moment and so ruthless the next?
I press both palms to my face. Maybe this is who he really is. A future alpha who makes hard choices, who sees the world in black and white. Who condemns without question.
But then, there’s the massacre he mentioned. Children died. I can understand why that would shape someone’s view. Why it would make them angry, even afraid.
Still. Immediate execution? No trial, no investigation, just death?
Nausea rolls through me.
I get up and pace the room, unable to sit still. This luxury suite feels suffocating now. The ocean view that seemed so beautiful earlier now only reminds me how far I am from home, how alone I am with my thoughts.
I don’t even know any hybrid shifters. I’ve never seen one, never heard of one in our territory. They’re like ghosts, these creatures that supposedly exist but remain invisible.
What would it be like to be born that way? To have both witch magic and shifter abilities?
I sink back onto the bed, wrapping my arms around myself.
This trip was supposed to be simple. Attend a gala, play the part, go home. Instead, I’m discovering parts of Darius that make me question everything I feel for him.
Because I do feel things. That’s the problem.
I’m falling for someone who might have a darkness in him I can’t accept.
I must have fallen asleep because I wake to the sound of the hotel room door opening. I feel disoriented and groggy. The room is darker now, the Florida sunshine replaced by the warm glow of evening lights filtering through the windows.
Darius steps into our suite, shutting the door quietly behind him. He pauses when he sees me stirring on the bed.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he says.
I sit up, tucking my hair behind my ears. “It’s fine.”
He watches me for a moment, studying my face. Then, he moves toward me, his footsteps silent on the plush carpet.
I stand, needing space, but he’s faster. He circles my waist from behind, pulling me back against his chest. Warmth seeps through my clothes, and I hate how my body responds even as my mind rebels.
“Have you eaten?”
“No,” I reply.
“Do you want to have dinner with me?”
I try to pull away from him. “I’m not very hungry. You can go without me.”
He doesn’t release me. “Are you upset with me?” Low against my ear.
My throat tightens. “Why would I be upset?”
“Because of what I said about the hybrids.”
I go still before muttering, “You can think what you like, Darius. But I don’t have to agree with you.”
His arms tighten around me, not painfully, but enough that I can’t escape. “Anyone else can be angry with me, Violet.” Breath stirs my hair. “But not you.”
“Why not?”
“It makes me anxious.”
My heart flutters traitorously. I squeeze my eyes shut, hating myself for feeling this way. Hating how his words affect me.
Silence, and then his voice drops, becomes gentler. “When the massacre happened, the shifters who were slaughtered were innocent.” A pause. “My father brought me to see the site.”
I swallow.
“I was a teenager,” he continues. “He made me walk through it. Made me sift through the bodies.” His arms slide up and tighten just above my chest now, almost as if he’s holding himself together.
“The faces of every person I saw are burned into my memory. It was senseless violence. My father had sent soldiers to that area for a negotiation of some sort, and none of them survived, either. Till you walk through that kind of carnage, you won’t understand, Violet. ”
My throat constricts. Of course he would feel that way after witnessing something so horrific. After carrying those images for years.
But still…
“You don’t know what hybrids are capable of,” he says quietly.
The words settle heavily in my chest. I think about how it feels to be looked at with disgust. To be unwanted. What must it be like to be hunted just for existing?
“What if you found one,” I ask slowly, “and realized they weren’t violent? Would you still kill them?”
He turns me around, resting both hands on my shoulders. His expression hardens. “They have the capacity for it, Violet. That’s what matters.”
“We all have the capacity for violence.”
“Not like this.” His jaw tightens. “The attacks were deranged in nature. The strength of a hybrid is three times that of a normal shifter. You can’t wait around to find out if they’ll snap.”
I recoil at his statement.
I know I should drop this. I don’t know any hybrids. This doesn’t affect me. But the image of a child being hunted for something they can’t control makes my stomach turn.
“What about children?” The words escape before I can stop them. “What if there’s a child somewhere who doesn’t even know what they are yet?”
“Violet—” His tone holds a warning.
But I can’t stop. “They’re killed? Without ever having a chance?”
His fingers tighten on my shoulders. “You don’t understand what you’re asking. I’ve seen the aftermath. Shifter children torn apart. Families slaughtered.” His eyes bore into mine. “I won’t apologize for protecting our people.”
My throat constricts. He’s right; I wasn’t there. I didn’t see what he saw. But the thought of condemning someone for what they might become, rather than what they’ve done, doesn’t sit right with me.