“He just doesn’t get it,” she mutters as she hurries out of the room, eyes lowered.

Leiza meets my gaze for a split second, before lowering her eyes again, and her shoulders stiffen when I lift a leg, blocking her from walking on.

“What don’t I get?” I ask.

I hear Tiara practically scramble down that hole to join Violet, and the door to the cellar drops shut, while Leiza stares helplessly after her vacant trail.

“Nothing, Alpha. You know Tiara. Always speaking when she should stay quiet,” she says nervously.

My head tilts when I hear Tiara speaking to Violet.

“Leiza and I can cover this, if you want to go up with Emit,” Tiara is offering.

Leiza tries to go, but I gesture for her to sit when I hear Violet speak.

“This is a great distraction. I need my head distracted. Seriously, keep an eye on my dad while we’re gone. He’s being stupid and impulsive and—”

“Yeah, so…back to Emit,” Tiara interrupts, causing Leiza to make a small wheezing sound like she simply wants Tiara to shut up. “Has he gotten any more…masculine to you?”

What…the…fucking…hell?

Wh-what?

Where did that come from?

I glance at the mirror to see if I suddenly stopped looking like the brute I am.

Nope.

Still the motherfucking king of masculinity.

Leiza is pale and casting a horrified look toward the kitchen where Violet is just underneath.

“Can he hear us?” Violet asks in a hushed tone.

Leiza covers her face at this point, while I remain rigid and slightly stupefied by…well, I’m a man. I’m a fucking beast.

There’s not a cocking inch of me that’s not bloody masculine.

I really wasn’t prepared for this conversation, given the fresh madness happening about, but they don’t know Marta Portocale is coming back from the grave and that she’s Violet’s mother…

“No, of course not. Would I have said that so loud if he could?” Tiara asks rhetorically, though we both know it’s a complete lie.

Even Leiza can hear them.

“I really need to stop talking to you so much. You hear one thing and take another from it,” Violet tells her, not at all answering the question.

“Didn’t realize they’d gotten so chummy,” I state dryly.

“Tiara calls her, on average, at least twelve times a day when she’s been gone a while. Never know what mess she’s gotten herself into,” Leiza rushes to say. “But you know us girls. When we talk, we don’t always—”

“You called him sweet and mild,” Tiara’s voice cuts in, and Leiza mutters a curse under her breath as she covers her face again.

“He is sweet and mild,” Violet tells her as something grinds in the background.

Put the nails in my coffin. I’m fucking done.

“And I like that about him. But he’s more of a friend that’s rough-and-fun in bed. Not a boyfriend I should be cuddling with on a couch. And now that things with Vance have sort of progressed—”

“Emit is just treating you with soft gloves. You’re a soft girl,” Tiara defends, while I sit up here like a pathetic little bitch listening in.

“Which is sweet,” Violet counters.

“How did this happen?” I ask Leiza, who just shakes her head in refusal to come up with an answer.

“It’s just…that passion and intensity isn’t there when a bedroom isn’t involved. He looks like a caveman, and I keep waiting for him to give me that punch of power he’s capable of. However, he just keeps holding back. Or maybe he’s not holding back and I’m building up impossible expectations. It’s fine. Despite what they think, I don’t have to be in a relationship with all four of them.”

“I’m falling out of contention because I’m not man enough for her?” I ask Leiza in completely dumbfounded disbelief.

“You can’t be pleased. Arion’s all over you and that’s no good, and Emit—”

“Arion’s attention would be great. But he’s been devoted to one woman for this much of his eternity—a woman who’s rising soon. And even if he’s as completely over her and ready for me as he claims to be, he still hasn’t gotten any closure from her. I don’t want to compete. Why put myself through that at all? It just seems like a pointless risk.”

“Why are they talking about Arion right now? I’m Tiara’s alpha,” I decide it’s important to point out.

Leiza nods like she completely agrees.

“How could Emit get ahead?” Tiara asks, finally asking something useful.

“It’s not a competition,” Violet groans.

“Hypothetically,” Tiara counters.

My phone rings—Damien’s name flashing across the screen. Obviously I ignore the damn thing and turn it right the hell off.

I can get the details on the ludicrous shit Isiah is accusing Edmond of at another time.

The hesitation Violet emits is palpable, as though she’s giving it thought.

“I don’t know. I still feel like Emit is just interested in me because I’m convenient,” Violet says as her phone buzzes on vibrate.

She has no idea that she’s the most inconvenient woman I’ve ever felt anything at all for.

I grab the buzzing phone off the table beside me, seeing Damien’s stupid fucking face on the screen. I turn her phone off too, as Leiza makes a show of looking around, not judging.

“You can feel the difference. With Damien, there’s always been that sort of desperate passion. With Arion, there’s this annoyingly intense chemistry, and I feel like I’m failing all women everywhere every time I struggle to pull away from him. With Vance, there’s been this subtle, slow-boil passion that is finally coming to fruition little by little, and it’s…”

Her voice trails off, and I inwardly groan when I practically hear her smile.

“Oh good grief. That smile is making me nauseous,” Tiara says, mocking a gagging noise.

“The point is, with Emit, it’s fun and nice, but it’s not powerful. That connection I thought was there faded when I realized I’m not all that special and my secrets aren’t my secrets when they reach him.”

“So this is hell. I’m the gossiping wolf toy that’s nice to play with, while the vampire is the forbidden fucking fruit that hangs so low it’s suspicious. It’s absurd,” I angrily tell my very silent omega.

Leiza gives me a firm nod of agreement, but I feel placated right now.

“I have a minor pack living in her house and she still thinks I’m less masculine than Damien fucking Morpheous?” I rant on a little. “What the hell do you say in my defense when I’m not around?”

Leiza bristles.

“Well, to be honest, Violet’s…unique. Every time I think we have her figured out, well…she’s tough to pin down. I’d call it multiple personalities, but I really think she hides what she truly thinks behind a stoic expression and completely different words from her thoughts,” Leiza tries to explain. “Like when she said she hated our packing, but didn’t argue when Lemon started packing for her. In truth, Violet doesn’t care what she wears, but she thinks she’s supposed to and pretends to care. She mocks a lot.”

“Mocks a lot?” I ask in confusion.

She gives me another nod, likely wishing she was anywhere but stuck here with me during this horrifying revelation.

“She sort of goes through mimicking the emotions she thinks people expect her to have, just to blend in a little better. Can’t help but notice she’s sort of not just a gypsy. Spend enough time with Violet, and see how close she comes to death without true fear…and it makes an omega wolf wonder if Violet’s a new breed or something.” She gives a nervous clearing of her throat. “Or an omega of ancient sorts that shouldn’t really be possible…if you really pay attention.”

My omegas have figured out something I had to figure out in a much more dramatic, eye-opening way. Not only am I apparently too soft, I’m also stupid once more.

I stand so abruptly that Leiza startles.

“If Violet wants to find me, I’ll be outside chopping wood,” I tell her, causing her to choke back a sound that suspiciously resembles a smothered laugh.

When I eye her, she’s the picture of seriousness, nodding once again. “Of course, Alpha,” she says so graciously.

Tearing my shirt over my head, I toss it to the ground. Leiza’s phone rings, and she puts it aside.

“A vampire is calling me. That can’t be good,” she says as she meets my eyes, almost asking for permission to answer Shera’s call.

“They’re trying to reach me. Not you. They can kiss my ass. I need a minute to deal with this.”

“I thought you were tired and going to get some sleep,” Leiza states, and then swallows down whatever else is on the tip of her tongue.

“I’m no longer tired,” I point out dryly.

Another nod from Leiza, and I walk out shirtless to go chop some fucking wood for the fireplace Violet rarely ever uses.

There’s an axe wedged into one of the piles of wood near the chopping block, making this simpler than expected, so I get to work.

Before I can even make one small pile, Damien is wheeling into the driveway, barely putting the brake on, before he hops out.

His eyes narrow on me, and then his brow furrows. It’s when his lips start to twitch that I bristle, feeling a little too transparent.

“Didn’t realize you’d gotten this pathetic, mongrel,” he drawls. “And here I thought our calls were being ignored so you could have Violet to yourself.”

“I’m holding an axe,” I warn him.

“Not a Van Helsing axe,” he volleys with a growing grin.

The side door swings open for Violet as she walks out, eyeing me first from my spot near the sidewalk by the street, and then Damien next.

“What’re you doing shirtless?” she asks, looking back over at me. “It’s like ten degrees out here. People are going to think that’s weird.”

Damien restrains a smile.

“You were almost out of wood,” I tell her, gesturing to the…fucking full wood chamber on the side of her house.

I couldn’t squeeze another piece in there if I wanted to.

Violet glances from it, to me, to Damien, and then to the wood again.

“Tiara keeps it filled, and we hardly use it, since the heat is on…” She lets her words trail off, clearly confused.

Damien outright grins. “Just what are you doing, exactly?” Damien muses.

Tossing the axe to the ground, I glare over at him. “Why are you here?”

His smile slips, the humor fleeing abruptly. “Change of plans. We’ve been trying to reach you. Go grab your things, wolf. I’ll take Violet to meet Arion and Vance. They’re already on their way to Fiona.”