Chapter 18 #2
The medication situation nags at me again. Something about it doesn’t add up. Shifters simply do not need daily treatment for weakness or a sickly constitution. Our bodies don’t work that way. So, what is Lillian giving her daughter, and why?
My hands tighten on Violet reflexively. Whatever the answer is, I need to know. I need proof. It’ll take time for Ethan’s sister to analyze the pills, but at least I’ll eventually find out what is in them.
Violet shifts again, and this time, her eyes flutter open. She blinks up at me blearily, and I realize she’s registering that her barrier is gone, that I’m holding her.
“Darius?” Her voice is confused, still heavy with sleep.
“I’m here.” I don’t let her go. “Go back to sleep.”
“The towels…”
“Are on the floor where they belong.” I pull her closer, daring her to protest.
She studies my face for a moment, and I wonder what she sees there. Whatever it is, it makes her frown slightly.
“You’re tense.”
“I’m fine.”
“Liar.” But she doesn’t push, and she doesn’t try to rebuild the barrier. Instead, she nestles closer against my chest. “Whatever it is, it’ll be okay.”
The simple faith in her statement nearly breaks me.
If only it were that easy. If only I could believe her.
Instead, I hold her close and stare at the ceiling, watching shadows shift across the plaster. The gala is tomorrow night. I’ll have to watch Ryker circle her, have to see other males look at her with interest.
The time is drawing closer. Sooner or later, I’ll have to make a choice. The pack or Violet. Duty or desire. Everything I’ve been raised to be, or everything I actually want.
My wolf growls low in my chest, a possessive sound that Violet probably interprets as contentment. She relaxes against me, her breaths becoming even again as she slips back into her dreams.
I close my eyes and breathe her in, memorizing this moment. The weight of her against me, the trust in how she curves into my body, the way her heartbeat syncs with mine.
Whatever happens, whatever decisions loom on the horizon, I know one thing with absolute certainty.
I’m not giving her up without a fight.
The dress hangs against the closet door. The wine-red silk from the boutique that made my wolf go mad. The one where she turned in that small circle and I had to grip the arms of my chair to keep from crossing the room and putting my hands on her.
I’m already on edge. Have been since the call with Ethan when he told me about Ryker.
My wolf prowls beneath my skin, restless and aggressive. The thought of Ryker looking at Violet, wanting her, makes me unable to think about anything else. I barely slept last night. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him touching her, claiming her.
I adjust my cufflinks with more force than necessary. Black suit, white shirt. Simple. Professional. Nothing that betrays the chaos raging beneath my skin.
Violet emerges from the bathroom in a robe, her hair wrapped in a towel. She glances at the dress, then at me.
“That one?”
“That one.” My voice comes out rougher than I mean it to. I can already picture how the silk will cling to her curves, how every male at the gala will stare.
Let them look. Let them want her. She’s mine.
She touches the fabric, fingers trailing over the silk. “I could wear the emerald instead.”
“No.” My reply is immediate, possessive. I move closer, unable to stop myself. “This one.”
Her pulse jumps in her throat. I want to put my mouth there, feel her heartbeat against my tongue.
She nods and disappears back into the bathroom, the dress clutched against her chest.
I force myself to breathe. My hands flex, claws threatening to emerge. The need to touch her, claim her, mark her is overwhelming.
Ethan’s words from last night replay in my mind: “Ryker’s only going to the gala because he heard Violet will be there.”
My wolf snarls at the memory.
Ten minutes later, the bathroom door opens. Violet steps out.
All thought evaporates.
The silk dress hugs her body like a lover’s hands, emphasizing every curve. The neckline dips dangerously low. Her hair falls in loose curls around her shoulders, and I can see the ruby earrings I bought for her gleaming against her skin.
Mine. Every instinct screams it. Mine, mine, mine!
She turns, presenting her back to me. “I can’t reach the zipper.”
I go to her. My control is threadbare, stretched too thin. My fingers find the small, metal tab at the base of her spine, and the contact between our bodies sends electricity racing through me.
I pull the zipper up slowly. Too slowly. My knuckles graze her skin with each incremental movement. She shivers, and the scent of her arousal hits me like a drug.
My wolf surges forward, demanding more.
“Darius…” My name is breathless on her lips.
I finish with the zipper but don’t step away. My hands settle on her waist instead, fingers splaying across silk and the warm body beneath. I pull her back against my chest, my mouth finding the curve of her neck.
“You’re going to kill me tonight.” The words come out strained against her skin. “Every male at that gala is going to look at you in this dress.”
“I don’t care about them.”
I turn her to face me, one hand sliding up to cup her throat. Not threatening, just possessive. Claiming. I’m certain she can see gold bleeding into my vision as my wolf rises to the surface.
“No?”
“No.”
I lean down, my mouth hovering a hair’s breadth from hers. The tension between us crackles. I see gold flicker in her gaze, just for a moment. Her wolf, responding to mine.
“There.” My thumb traces her lower lip as I stare into her eyes. “I see her. Your wolf.”
“Darius—”
I kiss her before she can finish. The kiss is hungry, aggressive, claiming. My hand tightens on her throat just enough to feel her pulse race. She whimpers into my mouth, and I swallow the sound, kissing her even more deeply.
My other hand slides down her back, lower, gripping her hip hard enough to leave marks.
I walk her backward until her spine hits the wall.
My mouth moves to her throat, teeth scraping against her pulse point.
She arches into me, and I press my body flush against hers, letting her feel exactly what she does to me.
She makes a small sound, half protest, half surrender. Her fingers push weakly at my chest even as her body melts against mine.
I force myself to pull back slightly, breathing hard. My forehead rests against hers, one hand still framing her face, less aggressive now but no less possessive.
“Your wolf.” Wonder colors my voice despite the hunger raging through me. “She’s there. I can see her in your eyes more clearly now.”
Violet blinks, confusion replacing desire on her face. The gold fades slightly.
“What?”
“Right there.” I touch the corner of her eye gently, even though both my hands still shake with the need to touch her everywhere else. “Gold. Your wolf is here, Violet. She’s present.”
The moment shatters completely when she steps away, smoothing down her dress as she trembles. Her cheeks are flushed, her breathing uneven.
“We should go.”
I study her for a long moment, my wolf growling at the distance between us. At her retreat. She wants me—I can smell it on her—but she’s pulling away anyway.
Always pulling away.
“Yeah. We should.”
I turn away before I can change my mind, before I can pin her back against that wall and finish what we started.
A car is waiting for us outside the hotel. Our driver opens the door, and I help Violet climb in before sliding in beside her. The privacy screen between the front and back seats is already up.
We’re alone back here. Just the two of us, with the city lights sliding past the tinted windows.
I can smell her arousal still, mixed with confusion and something else I can’t identify. My wolf is on a hair trigger. All he wants is for me to pull her onto my lap, to finish what we started upstairs.
But a question burns in my throat. I’ve been holding it back all day.
“I need to ask you something. About your medicine.”
She looks at me warily. “What about it?”
“It’s strange that you need to take it at all.” I turn toward her slightly. “No shifter takes daily medicine like that. Even with a weak wolf, your body should be stronger than a human’s.”
Her hands clench in her lap. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying it doesn’t make sense.” My own hands flex with the need to touch her. “Does it have any effects on you? Side effects?”
She’s quiet for a moment. Then: “I feel nauseous after taking it. Weak for a few hours. But I’ve taken it ever since I can remember.”
My jaw clenches. “Since you can remember.”
“Yes. Why does it matter?”
“Because nausea and weakness sound like serious side effects for something you’re supposed to take every day.” I face her fully now. “Have you ever asked what’s in it? What exactly it’s supposed to treat?”
“I was told it helps with my constitution. That I’m sickly without it.”
“Violet.” I lean closer. “I’ve seen your wolf. In your eyes. She’s there. But what if something has been keeping her suppressed all this time?”
She goes very still. “What are you talking about?”
“What if the medicine has another side effect? What if it’s suppressing your wolf instead of helping you?” I choose my words carefully. “It’s just something to consider. To think about.”
Her breathing quickens. “That’s impossible. I’ve taken it forever.”
“I know. And maybe I’m wrong.” I reach for her hand, threading our fingers together. “But doesn’t it seem odd? The nausea, the weakness after every dose. You’ve been told you’re sickly, but are you really? How do you feel today, without the medicine?”
She pulls her hand away and wraps her arms around herself. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“I just want you to consider it. That’s all.” I keep my voice gentle despite the urgency clawing at my chest. “Just think about it.”
She’s quiet for a long moment, staring out the window at the passing lights. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
I nod. “Okay. We don’t have to.”