Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Violet
I wake to the beeping of machines and the aching of my entire body. The clinic room is dim, early morning light filtering through blinds. I lie still, piecing together fragments. The arena. Execution. Darius fighting Alaric. The gunshot.
Zion.
My shoulder throbs, confirming it really happened.
Then, I feel the warmth of someone’s hand wrapped around mine.
I turn my head slowly, and my breath catches.
Darius is here. Asleep in a chair pulled up to my bedside, his head resting on the mattress near my hip. His dark hair is disheveled, falling across his forehead. He looks exhausted. Dark circles shadow his eyes, and there is tension in his jaw that doesn’t ease even in sleep.
He came for me.
The thought hits me with unexpected force, and I have to swallow against the sudden tightness in my throat. He came into that arena. When they were about to kill me, when I thought I was going to die, he fought his own father. He killed Alaric. For me.
I remember him kneeling in front of me after, asking if I was alright. Then, I saw Zion behind him with that gun. And then…my wolf! We pushed Darius out of the way. I remember the explosion of pain in our shoulder. The world going black as we fell into his arms.
A tear slips down my cheek.
The salty smell must reach him because his breathing changes. His head lifts slowly, and his eyes blink open, unfocused at first. Then, they land on me, and I watch shock ripple across his features, followed immediately by pure, undiluted happiness.
“Violet,” he breathes, and my name sounds like salvation on his lips.
He brings my hand to his mouth and plants fervent kisses on my knuckles, his lips warm against my skin. “You’re awake. You’re back.”
I try to speak, but my throat is too dry. He must see it because he leans in closer, his palm cupping my cheek. Then, he’s kissing me, softly and desperately, and I let him because his trembling touch is the only thing that feels real right now, the only thing that grounds me.
When he pulls back, he rests his forehead against mine, his breath mingling with mine. “The next time you run away from me,” he says, his voice rough with emotion, “I’m tying you to me. Do you understand?”
A broken laugh bubbles out of me, unexpected and slightly hysterical, and I see the corner of his mouth lift in response.
“I’m serious, Violet.”
“I know,” I manage to whisper.
He draws back just enough to reach for a cup of water on the bedside table. He holds the straw to my lips, and I drink gratefully, the cool liquid soothing my parched throat. When I’m done, he sets it aside and takes my hand again, like he can’t bear not to be touching me.
“I didn’t think you’d come for me,” I say quietly, the words scraping out.
His brow furrows. “Why?”
I look away, pressure building in my throat. “Because I’m a hybrid.”
The silence stretches between us, heavy and painful.
Then, his fingers find my chin, gently turning my face back to him.
“I understand why you thought that. But Violet, you should never doubt my feelings for you. What I feel for you goes beyond the fated mate bond. Even if I hadn’t discovered the truth about the massacre, I would have come for you. ”
My heart stutters.
“You’re mine, hybrid or not. You’ve always been mine.”
I take a shaky breath, trying to process his words, trying to believe them.
“Violet.” His voice drops lower, becomes more intense. “I love you.”
I blink as emotion pricks at my eyes.
“I’ve made mistakes,” he continues, his thumb stroking my cheekbone.
“And I wish I knew how to fix them. But I love you with every breath in my body, and my place is always going to be beside you. I’m sorry I made you feel like I would abandon you.
I’m sorry I made you doubt me. I’m sorry that I made you believe you would be nothing more than a secret. ”
I stare at him, seeing the truth written plainly across his face, in every line of his body. He means it. Every word.
I lift my hand and press it over his mouth, cutting off whatever else he was going to say.
“I don’t want you to apologize anymore,” I tell him.
He looks surprised. Against my palm, I feel him say, “I don’t know what else to do.”
“I want to know what our future is.”
He takes my hand from his mouth and kisses the back of it with a tenderness that makes my chest ache. “It’s whatever you want it to be. I’m the alpha of the pack now, but if you want to leave, I’ll give the position to somebody else. I’ll go wherever you want to go.”
My eyes widen. “You would leave the pack for me?”
“Yes.” No hesitation. “I would leave everything for you.”
The weight of that promise settles over me, and I don’t know what to do with it. This man, this alpha who just claimed leadership of his pack, is offering to walk away from it all. For me.
“I’ll think about it,” I whisper.
He kisses each of my fingers, his lips lingering against my skin. “Take all the time you need.”
A different worry suddenly surfaces. “My mother?”
His expression goes neutral. “Ryker got her to safety, but her wounds were bad. She’s in another room, recovering.”
Relief washes over me. I knew Ryker rescued her, but hearing that she’s here, that she’s being treated, makes it real. “I want to see her.”
“I’ll arrange it.”
He stands, still holding my hand for a moment longer before letting go. The loss of his touch leaves me cold, but I don’t say anything as I watch him go, his shoulders set with determination.
Twenty minutes feel like an eternity. I lie there, staring at the ceiling, my mind spinning with everything that has happened. Alaric is dead. Zion shot me. The truth about the massacre is out. Darius loves me.
I don’t know what to do with any of it.
The door opens, and a nurse brings my mother in. She’s in a wheelchair, bandages visible beneath her hospital gown. The moment she sees me, she starts to cry.
“Oh, Violet,” she sobs.
I try to sit up, but my body screams in protest. Strong hands catch my shoulders, and I realize Darius followed her in. He eases me back down gently.
“You’re too weak,” he says firmly. “You two can talk. I’ll be outside.”
Then he steps into the corridor, closing the door behind him to give us privacy.
Mom wheels herself closer. She reaches for my hand, and I grab hers like a lifeline. We’re both crying now, tears streaming down our faces as she leans over the bed railing.
“Are you really okay?” she asks, her voice breaking. “I’ve been so scared. When I heard what happened in the arena…”
“I feel better, Mom. I promise.”
She smooths my hair back from my face, her touch gentle but trembling. “We’ll leave the pack once we both recover. We’ll go somewhere safe, somewhere far from all of this.”
I hesitate, and she must notice because her hand stops moving.
“Violet…”
“Darius is my fated mate, Mom. I’m not going anywhere.”
Her expression closes off immediately, pain and anger crossing her face. “His family is the reason I lost your father and your brother.”
“Yes,” I say softly. “But Darius had nothing to do with it.”
She pulls her hand back, her jaw tight.
“I love him, Mom.”
The words hang in the air between us after I see her flinch.
“He protected me,” I continue, needing her to understand. “He loves me. I don’t want to lose that. I don’t want to lose him.” I pause, gathering my courage. “I want a chance to be happy.”
“Happy?” She pauses, her voice rising slightly when she continues. “With the son of the man who destroyed our family?”
“Darius is not Alaric,” I say, keeping my voice steady even though my heart is pounding.
“This is my decision, Mom. When I took that bullet for him, it was my decision. I was so used to being abandoned and tossed aside by you that I was sure he wouldn’t come for me.
But he did. He risked everything, and he came for me.
He chose me, Mom. For the first time, someone chose me.
You can’t ask me to walk away from that. ”
She stares at me, her eyes wide.
“You don’t know how badly you broke me,” I whisper. The words hurt coming out, but they need to be said. “Darius was the one who put me back together. Granted, we both made mistakes, but he came back to me over and over again, each time I pushed him away. I can’t lose him.”
“I was only trying to protect you,” she says, her voice cracking.
“I get it.” I reach for her hand again and hold it gently. “But in the process, I suffered. I don’t want to look at the past anymore. I want to move forward.”
She’s quiet for a long time, and I can see the struggle playing out across her face. At last, she says, “I don’t think I can stay here, Violet. Not in this pack.”
This hurts, but I understand. “That’s fine. You should go wherever you can find your peace.” I squeeze her hand. “But know that you can always come back to me.”
Her face crumples, and she leans forward, wrapping her arms around me as best she can with the bed rail between us. I hug her back, ignoring the protest of my injuries, just breathing in her familiar scent and letting my own tears fall.
“I love you,” she whispers against my hair. “All I want is for you to be safe.”
“I know, Mom.”
We stay like that for several minutes, holding each other and crying, grieving everything we have lost and everything that has changed.
The girl I was when I first came to this pack feels like a stranger now.
That Violet thought she was sick, weak, broken.
She swallowed pills every day that made her nauseous, believing they were keeping her alive when they were actually suppressing who she truly was.
This Violet knows the truth. This Violet has survived torture and her own execution. This Violet has discovered her wolf and embraced what she is. This Violet has fallen in love with an alpha who would burn the world down to protect her.
When we separate, Mom wipes her eyes, trying to compose herself. “When did you get to be so strong?”
I let out a watery laugh. “I don’t feel strong.”