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“I know… But she’s healthy; we both are.” Cain’s lips brush over my shoulder, then he pulls back, grazing his thumb over my cheek as he stares into my eyes.

“You should have told me last night before I did anything to you… The cortisol spike isn’t worth the endorphins after.” He runs his fingers through my hair and tucks it behind my ears. “Let me take care of you.”

“Okay.” I smile, leaning into his tender touch.

“What do you want for breakfast?”

“Anything?”

“Anything.” Cain smiles, his warmth reaching the surface.

“I’d love an eggs Florentine from the Commons… Would you pick one up for me?”

“Let’s get dressed. I’ll take you out.”

“Like… A date?” I bite my lower lip, trying to stifle my smile.

“Yeah.” He chuckles. “A date.”

Cain

Chapter 33

We’ve been missing out.

I should have publicly claimed her years ago. Seeing her across the table from me at breakfast and talking to her was easy. I lost two rounds of cribbage because I couldn’t take my eyes off her. And while I normally force myself to eat to survive, I actually enjoyed having a meal because I was with her.

People have been staring, and I’m loving every second of it. I want everyone to know that she’s mine.

They stare because they can’t imagine why she would sit across the table and smile at me.

I dislike people. And for the most part, they dislike me. It’s no secret that the community believes I’m not an ideal member of the aristocracy. But Violet? People love her. She’s approachable, easygoing. They recognize her for her work in the clinic and admire her on stage. They remember how her father led this place before Alistair took over. Word has gotten around that many of them believe she should be leading the colonies. And they’re right.

“Are you going to the forge today?” Violet’s voice calls me back from my musings. She’s left her hair down, although it’s brushed after I tangled it up this morning. She’s wearing a soft, long-sleeved plum dress, the matching plum lipstick that covers her bruises, and my ring on her finger. She’s stunning. “Cain?” I drop a few kopek on the table, along with a couple serebro for a tip.

“No, we need to settle everything for you. We need to visit my dearest older brother.” Standing up, I offer Violet my hand. She takes it, then wraps her arm around mine as we leave the Commons Diner. “I want to make one stop first.” I guide us down the stone sidewalk, around the markets and small stores, straight to Emberlight.

I steal a glance, Violet’s eyes lighting up when she sees the dark sign with orange letters like hot coals. Emberlight is my personal project, the store attached to the forge where I sell my art. While I have select paintings for sale, this project is mostly filled with blown glass, knives, luxury tools, and jewelry. There’s a small room where Dahlia does piercings and tattoos. Violet came in when it opened. I pulled her aside and told her to get out.

“Are you sure?” She asks when we reach the door, the closed sign facing the window.

“Yes.” I unlock, then open the door and nod for her to walk in. I can’t help the smile tugging at my lips as I follow her.

It’s a dark, rustic industrial design. Blown-glass lanterns hang from the ceiling, and sconces hang on the wall. Tools are displayed in floor-to-ceiling open-faced cabinets, while the knives and jewelry sit behind glass at the counter.

None of this, none of what people gravitate to first, catches her attention. Violet stands frozen in the gallery corner, where the two walls are covered with large canvases. One is from when I rigged her with rope; the second is from our hooked-body suspension session. Our purple and yellow prints tangled together, concealing our rendezvous in plain sight. They’re my favorites in the gallery and not for sale. From the ceiling in the gallery, rope dangles from the rigging, tied in the same intricate knots I used on her, and hooks decorate the ends.

“When did you do this?” She asks, smiling at me from over her shoulder.

“As soon as they dried.” Placing my hands on her shoulders, I drop down and brush my lips over hers. “I create all of my best art with you.”

“I don’t know.” She shakes her head, looking around the space. “This is all beautiful.”

“Come on.” I nod towards the counter, and she follows me. I walk behind the counter and lean back against the wall, watching her as she looks at the pieces through the glass. “See the necklaces on the right?” She draws her attention there and nods. “Pick one out.” She looks up at me, shaking her head.

“I don’t need one; you should sell them.” She smiles, looking them over again. “Besides, according to Dean, I have an entire jewelry box filled with gifts from you.”

“That’s true… But I don’t need the money, and I want you to have one. Pick one out.” She looks over them for a minute, then taps her finger over the glass.