Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Violet
The corner of Anne’s couch swallows me whole. A mug of tea is clutched between my palms; it’s almost too hot to hold. The warmth seeps into my skin but doesn’t touch the cold knot in my chest.
Anne emerges from the kitchen, brown hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, concern etched into every line of her face. She settles into the armchair facing me, one leg tucked beneath her.
“How are you feeling?” she asks quietly.
The tea burns going down. “I’ll be okay,” I lie.
Anne studies me with those warm eyes that have seen too much loss. Does she know I’m fracturing from the inside out? That every breath feels like swallowing glass?
“I suspected something was going on between you and Darius,” she says carefully. “But I never thought you two were fated mates.”
Neither did I. The words lodge in my throat. I shake my head, staring into my tea.
“I should have known,” I finally rasp out. “The way he looked at me. The things he did. I was so stupid.”
“You weren’t stupid.” Anne leans forward, elbows on her knees. “How could you have known? Your wolf was barely there.”
Was. Past tense. Because she’s here now, a constant presence that grows stronger with each passing hour. She paces inside me, restless and unhappy. Her emotions bleed into mine until I can’t tell where she ends and I begin.
“I still think the two of you should sit down and talk,” Anne says quietly.
I shake my head so hard tea sloshes over the rim of my mug. “No.”
“Violet—”
“I’m leaving town.” The words tumble out before I can stop them. “I don’t want to be here anymore.”
Anne’s eyes widen. “What?”
“I have some funds I’ll have to liquidate, but before that, I need to see my mother.”
A look of understanding crosses her face, followed by a softer sadness. She thinks I want to say goodbye. That I’m planning to leave and never come back, and I need to see my mother one last time before I disappear.
She doesn’t know the truth.
The medicine bottle wasn’t in my apartment when I returned. I tore the place apart looking for it. Checked every drawer, every shelf, every pocket of every bag. Nothing.
Someone took it.
It’s been four days now. Four days without the medicine.
I expected to feel sick. Weak. Nauseous. The way my mother always warned me I’d feel if I ever missed a dose. She said missing even one would make me violently ill, that my body depended on it.
But I don’t feel sick. I feel better.
My wolf is prominent inside me, growing stronger each day since I stopped the medicine. Her emotions flow through me like a river, and for the first time in my life, I understand what other shifters mean when they talk about their wolves.
Four days without the medicine, and I’m fine.
The thought sits like lead in my stomach.
“Can you arrange for me to see her?” I ask, meeting Anne’s gaze. “My mother?”
Anne nods slowly. “I can do that.”
“Thank you.” I take another sip of tea, an excuse to look away from the pity in her eyes.
Despite everything that happened between Darius and me, his words about my wolf won’t stop circling through my head. They’ve burrowed under my skin, where they’re festering.
What if something has been keeping her suppressed all this time?
My mother gave me that medicine. Every single day for as long as I can remember. Made me swallow those pills religiously, watched to ensure I took them, got angry when I forgot. Sent them to me in Paris so I wouldn’t get sickly there.
The question slams into me with brutal clarity: What if they weren’t helping me? What if the medicine was suppressing my wolf all along?
I need the truth. Was it deliberate, or just some horrible side effect she didn’t know about?
“Your scent is changing.” Anne’s voice breaks through my spiraling thoughts. “It’s getting stronger. More distinct.”
I glance down at myself, as if I can somehow see the change. “I know.”
“It’s a good thing,” Anne says gently. “It means your wolf is coming into her own.”
Or it means whatever was suppressing her is finally wearing off.
Anne rises from her chair, smoothing down her shirt. “I guess I should head to work.”
Panic flares. “Wait. You need to shower first.”
She blinks. “What?”
“Shower. Please.” The mug hits the coffee table harder than I intended. “If Darius catches even a whiff of my scent on you, he’ll know I’m here.”
Her eyes open wide with understanding. “Right. Of course. He has already called me twice demanding to know if I know where you are. He and Ethan have also been hounding Sienna.”
Shame burns hot. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have put you in this position.”
“Don’t apologize.” Anne places a hand on my shoulder as she walks past me. “That’s what friends are for.”
She squeezes once before disappearing into the bathroom. The water turns on; I hear the sounds of the shower running. She takes her time, making sure every trace of my scent is washed away.
When she emerges, her hair is damp, and she smells like her usual lavender body wash. None of my scent lingers on her.
Anne quickly grabs her bag and keys. She pauses at the door, looking back at me with concern.
“Will you be okay?”
I force a smile. “I’ll be fine. Go to work.”
She hesitates for another moment before nodding. “I’ll try to arrange that meeting with your mother today.”
“Thank you.”
The door clicks shut, leaving me alone with the silence and my wolf’s unhappiness. The mug sits abandoned on the coffee table. I curl into a ball on the couch.
For two days, I’ve held it together. Kept my spine straight and my voice steady. Told myself I made the right choice. That walking away from Darius was the only option.
But now, alone in Anne’s quiet apartment, the walls I’ve built start to crumble.
Pain slams into me—not metaphorical pain, physical pain. It radiates from deep in my chest, spreading through my limbs until tremors shake my entire frame. I press my fist against my sternum, but the ache just keeps growing.
He was only taking care of me because of the mate bond. Not because he cared about me. Not because he wanted me for who I am.
It was biology. Just wolf instinct. He wasn’t choosing me.
Six years. He knew for six years and never said a word.
The sob rips free before I can contain it. Then another. Another.
My face burrows into the couch cushions, muffling the sound, but it’s like a dam breaking. Once it starts, there’s no stopping the flood.
I was falling for him. Despite everything. Despite the cruel things he’d said to his father about me, despite how long he’d kept me at a distance. When he touched me, when he looked at me with those dark eyes that saw too much, a change happened inside me.
It wasn’t just my wolf responding. It was me. Violet. The girl who spent her entire life unwanted and unloved.
He made me feel cared for. Protected. Like I mattered.
And since my wolf was still practically nonexistent, those feelings were real. Mine, not some bond-induced attraction I couldn’t control.
But on his end, it was all a lie.
Another wave crashes through me. Not just my grief—hers, too. My wolf’s pain tangles with my own until breathing becomes almost impossible.
She’s mourning the mate we’ll never have. The bond we rejected before it could fully form.
I curl tighter, nails digging crescents into my palms.
Get it out of your system, Violet. Take this time. Cry. Scream. Break down. Then, be strong again.
The tears soak into the cushions. My chest heaves with each sob, my body shaking, but eventually, the storm starts to ebb. Not because the pain lessens; my body simply runs out of tears.
My heart feels like it is breaking. Actually breaking. Splitting apart, jagged edges cutting into everything soft and vulnerable inside me.
There will be no going back. I won’t let myself believe what we had was real when he kept the truth from me for so long, content to let me live in ignorance while he pondered what to do about our bond.
Like I was a problem to be solved instead of a person. Instead of his mate.
Whimpers scrape my throat raw. Palms press over my face, but I’ve already fallen apart.
I’ve survived so much. My father’s death. Trevor’s death. Being cast out by our original pack. Living with a mother who barely tolerates the sight of me. Six years of exile disguised as education.
But this? This might actually destroy me.
For one brief, shining moment, I had hope. Let myself imagine a future where someone wanted me. Where I belonged. Where I wasn’t alone.
Then it all came crashing down.
Time loses all meaning as I huddle on Anne’s couch. There’s only the pain, the emptiness, the terrible knowledge that I did this to myself.
I let myself fall for him. I let myself hope. And that was the cruelest thing of all.
My wolf keens inside me, pure misery given sound. She’s trying to comfort me, trying to share her strength, but she’s hurting too. We’re both drowning.
Eventually, I lie on my back, hollow and aching, staring at nothing.
The apartment is too quiet. Too still. It makes the roaring in my head that much louder.
My wolf stirs restlessly inside me, her unhappiness a constant hum beneath my skin.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper to her. To the part of me that’s finally awake after all these years of forced sleep. “I’m so sorry.”
She doesn’t respond with words, just feelings. Grief. Loss. But also, forgiveness.
She doesn’t blame me for rejecting our mate. She understands why I had to. Why staying would have destroyed us both in different ways.
The realization makes fresh tears spill down my cheeks, but these are quieter. Gentler.
I’m not alone in this. Not anymore. My wolf is here, and whatever happens next, we’ll face it together. Even if that means spending the rest of our lives with this hollow ache where the fated mate bond should be.
I close my eyes and rest on the couch, letting the silence wrap around me. The grief is still there, but beneath it lies determination.