She considered, her brow furrowing slightly. “No. Actually, I feel fine. Better than fine, honestly. Like it just. . . worked its way out of my system.”
“Good.” Relief washed through me, genuine and profound. “That is good.”
“Yeah.” She shifted the ice packs slightly, adjusting their position. “Which means I should be totally fine for my shift tonight at Oubliette.”
And just like that, the moment of peace was shattered.
My jaw clenched hard enough to make my teeth ache. Every muscle in my body went taut, coiling with renewed tension. My voice was firm when I said the word, “No.”
She tilted her head to one side and stared at me with a confused look. It was as if she didn’t comprehend why I objected to her returning to the place she’d been slipped something less than eight hours ago.
“No.” I threw my hands up, exasperation bleeding through every movement.
Disappointment stooped her shoulders, pulling them down like gravity had doubled its weight on her frame. But her voice held firm, unyielding as winter stone. “I’m sorry, Rowan. I have to go back.”
The finality of those words, leaving no room for negotiation or argument, reminded me viscerally of Faelin in her last moments—that same grim determination, that refusal to bend even when bending might havesaved her life. The memory cut sharp and cold, a blade between ribs I thought had scarred over.
An awful pit opened in my stomach, yawning and dark.
“Violet, you were drugged last night.” I kept my voice level, reasonable, even as frustration clawed at my restraint like a caged animal. “You cannot possibly expect me to stay silent about this. I will not tell your father, but I sure as hell will not allow you to walk back into that place tonight, oranynight.”
We still had hours before her next shift at Oubliette. Hours I fully intended to use to convince her this path was madness. But the stubborn set of Violet’s jaw, the way her chin tilted up in defiance even as disappointment curved her spine, told me I wouldn’t be able to convince her without laying some truths bare.
Truths I wasn’t certain I was ready to expose. Truths that might shatter whatever fragile trust we’d so recently built between us.
“Violet, listen. I do not understand why you are so determined to return there. If money is truly your goal, then surely there is a coffee shop nearby where you could apply. A bookstore. Hell, a boutique in the shopping district below us. Anywhere that does not involve a club full of—"
I caught myself before saying too much.
She shook her head as she said, “I have to bethere.” Her breathing quickened, shallow and tight. Her heart rate increased. I heard it rabbiting against her ribs, feeding the predator inside of me and urging me to circle closer.
Her physiological changes led me to my next question, spoken with a calm I absolutely did not feel. My own heart hammered in my chest, but I forced my voice to remain level, gentle.
“Violet, what exactly is in Oubliette that you cannot find anywhere else?” I reached for her hand where it fisted in the white sheets, and covered it with my own. Her skin was warm, no longer feverish but still carrying heat. I remembered her confession from last night, about being coerced, about touch being a minefield of triggers and trauma. This was safe ground. Permitted contact. “Please. I need to understand.”
A shadow crossed her face like a cloud passing over the sun, and it pained me to feel so powerless against whatever demons haunted her. Inthe morning light streaming through the windows, illuminating every detail in brutal clarity, I watched her body go taut with tension. Every muscle coiled like rope about to snap, her spine straightening against the ligneous headboard, her free hand clenching and unclenching in the bedsheets in an unconscious rhythm.
Whatever this is, it goes far beyond my fears for her safety.
She teetered on some invisible edge, and I recognized the haunted look in her eyes from my previous life—that same look of those fools who’d ventured beyond the furthest edges of the Wastelands and into the Chittering Dark.
I squeezed her hand, feeling the delicate bones beneath warm skin. “I am here for you, Violet. Let me help you.”
Her mouth opened, then closed. Her throat worked as she swallowed. For a long moment, she simply stared at me with those hazel eyes that shifted colors in the changing light—more gold now, less green, like autumn leaves before they fell. I watched the exact second resignation crossed her features. Her shoulders dropped, the tension bleeding out of them. Her jaw unclenched. Something fundamental shifted in her posture, as if she’d been holding herself together through sheer force of will and had finally decided to let go.
“Alright.” The word came out barely above a whisper.
The fluttering anxiety in my chest eased slightly.Thank fuck.
She looked into my eyes and said, “I’m hunting a man.”
My cock twitched despite the gravity of the moment.Well, that’s oddly promising.
I waited for her to continue, keeping my expression carefully neutral. I’d learned in my first life that people revealed more when you gave them silence to fill. Her brow pinched when I didn’t react as she’d apparently expected—no shock, no horror, no attempt to talk her out of it.
“You don’t have anything to say to that?” Suspicion colored her voice.
I shook my head. “You have never given me reason to doubt you, Violet.”
