Finally, she says, “I’d have you do nothing. If he wants to be with someone else, so be it. It’ll hurt, I might cry, and then I’ll carry on. Snowball downhill, remember? I survived my mother’s death when I believed it to be real—I can survive a breakup.”

I’m not really sure what to say to that. It seems like such an under-reaction to the very possible hypothetical.

And the damn girl is too hopeful that Marta Portocale is truly her mother. It’s slightly unsettling how much she apparently cares for a woman I despise with a deeply rooted, unadulterated hatred.

“I’m the most loyal, which is my point,” I resume, needing to ensure she’s understanding. “I’ll be the one to hold the pieces together when they start falling apart. It’s just one piece of knowledge you’ll benefit from with me at your side, Violet. Just one. I’ll be there to keep them with you, so long as you promise not to tear us all apart…the way she did, by the end.”

Her gaze meets mine again as she finger-combs through her wet hair.

“No.”

The simple answer from her lips makes zero sense to me.

“What?”

“No,” she says again, rolling her eyes, as she grabs my shirt from the counter.

She quickly starts stuffing her arms through the sleeves too long for her. “Can you give me a few minutes to finish up in here?” she asks sweetly.

I don’t particularly like this sense of confusion.

“No? No what, Violet?”

She makes a small sound that really doesn’t bode well for me.

“I could explain, but then you’ll argue, Arion. The point is, the answer is no. I don’t want you keeping the boys in line for me, and I will never ask you to do something to them, or manipulate them, or any other version of control Idun once had you implement.” She turns and levels me with a look that is still a little sad. “I’m not Idun.”

“I know you’re not, but—”

“I’m not adventurous, because when I say I attract danger, I mean it very literally, and more so than ever before, at current. There’s too much adventure and not enough time in between to adjust. Now I realize it’s the curse of an omega, and it’s okay with me because at least I can take it. It takes the focus off other omegas who can die.”

I start to argue, but she continues speaking, as she bends over abruptly and starts tying her hair up in a towel.

“The more I learn about Idun, the more I realize how starkly different we are,” she continues. “But the biggest difference is the fact that if I’m not happy, I’ll just walk away, Arion. I don’t fight for men who don’t truly want me. It’s just that simple.”

“No, you fight against them when they do want you, because you prefer to be the chased instead of the chaser,” I counter, just now realizing how very limited my information on women is.

“I’m not sure why you want to argue with me,” she goes on quietly. “I don’t know why you’re chasing me at all. You had me, and instead of being honest, you used the trust I gave you very freely against me, Arion. How many times do I have to say that before you really hear it?”

She’s being completely unreasonable.

“Then why are you here with me?” I ask very seriously.

“Because apparently the three of you voted this is where I’ll be tonight, and so I’m here, answering your questions instead of getting any real answers of my own,” she says as she pointedly avoids looking at me, even in the mirror.

Come to think of it, I saw the agreement in her eyes, I think, but she never did actually agree to come with me. Huh. How the hell did that happen?

No sense in fretting now. I finally have her alone, and I’ll manage to turn this around somehow.

“If I’d told you I was Arion, the vampire alpha who strikes fear into every single immortal or semi-immortal soul in this world, would you have still been the same Violet you were?” I ask her, debunking her little argument.

“I would have listened, Arion, because I’m a monster too. I know you didn’t know that, but I doubt it would have influenced your ultimate decision. I’m sure it gets trickier and trickier to be a monster, because I’ve already been buried alive after having my throat slit, been tied up in some Martin guy’s house by vampires…also after having my throat slit…and attacked by the same pureblood wolves twice. I haven’t even lived in Shadow Hills a year yet, and I’ve already had to kill just to stay upright.”

She pauses, and her eyes stay fixed on mine. “You could have told me, and I would have listened. I can’t promise anything beyond that, because we’ll never know, but I can say with certainty I would have done that if you’d given me a chance. But you don’t really listen to anyone, and you don’t expect them to listen to you, until you make one hell of a statement that can’t be taken back. Then you simply argue until everyone around you is too tired of arguing, and you think you’ve won, so long as you get your way in the end.”

I don’t particularly like it when the naïve little monster in front of me sounds like she knows me far better than I know her. Especially since she’s not even saying it to win an argument.

“I should probably call Vance back to find out how the meeting with inhospitable wolves is going,” I state flatly before walking out, shutting the door behind me very calmly, even as my jaw tics.

Vance answers before the first ring even dials all the way through.

“She didn’t agree to this,” are the first words out of his mouth. “As soon as we’re finished, we’ll be joining you, so you’d better—”

“If you know Violet so well, you’d know I’m quite well put in my place by this point,” I cut in, which seems to silence him. “Just when you form a plan of action, she does or says something that shatters that plan and leaves you fumbling around in the damn dark with no night vision.”

He’s quiet only for a brief second or two.

“Violet’s had a unique introduction into our world. She doesn’t fear us, which certainly helps our cause. The fact she’s had to fight with us, and never against us, helps form that necessary bond. She doesn’t think us capable of harming her, and it gives her the freedom to push back when we push too far,” he tells me in the tone that suggests he’s bloody holding my hand to walk me through this.

It’s degrading.

“And it’s done so gently that it doesn’t make one defensive,” Damien adds from somewhere close. “But now’s not the time. The more pressing matter is that we have a roomful of wolves ready for blood. Idun’s been up for over three months, and they think her capable of quite a lot in that short amount of time. Either we’re underestimating her, or they’re gravely exaggerating her reach of power.”

“And Jessup’s House has put in another call. I keep forgetting how fast word can travel. Speed of light, these days. So I’ve been spared a personal visit this hour. However, a lot of the Houses are calling for a gathering. They want a united front to try and get ahead of her. You’re going to have to pick a side this time, Arion. The bitch rose on her own because Violet came to our town,” Vance goes on.

“Freaky fucking shit happens,” Damien mutters from the background.

“Somehow, Idun is now tapping into her—the only Neopry standing. It’s all we can figure as to how she rose. The casket her head was in has been melted away,” Vance adds.

“I’ll handle Jessup’s House. My family and I will remain neutral. You want a war with Idun, have at it. But I’ll work smarter, not harder,” I say as I hang up on him, hearing Violet suck in a breath of what sounds like surprise, before a slight choked sound escapes her.

“Violet?” I call as I quickly return to the door and swing it open.

She’s leaning over the sink, splashing cool water over her face, and coughing profusely.

My hands are gently pulling her hair back before I even realize what I’m doing, and I watch her in the mirror as she turns a little flushed.

“What the hell?” I snap, looking around for some catalyst to this new madness.

“Sorry,” she says, her voice a little rasp. “A bug flew into my throat.”

My entire body relaxes, and I sag against the counter, gingerly running my hand up her back in a soothing motion.

“You can handle monsters in your mouth, but bugs offend you,” I state idly, trying to backpedal into my Ace days.

I was more in touch with my dormant human side then. I can’t go around starved for fucking blood and only have her as an astral projection who can never touch her. That’s simply too cruel.

She makes another choked sound in response, as she shakes her head, turning a little redder.

“How big was the bloody bug?” I ask more seriously, causing her to laugh just enough for me to really appreciate that damn bug right now.

“I need another second and I’ll be out,” she says, her hand awkwardly patting mine that’s perched near her on the sink.

Frowning, I do as she asks, proving I can bloody listen, and sometimes even be agreeable.

I move to the bed as I fire off a quick message to my brother, informing him I’ll pay him a visit soon. I keep the timeframe vague, just in case I get to keep Violet to myself for a little while longer.

Violet stumbles out of the bathroom, and I refuse to look at her, trying to come at this from a new angle.

“I’ve heard something about this world going to hell from almost every single public establishment I’ve visited, every single time something horrible flashes across the screen of the television there,” I state, staring at my phone. “Truth is, the world is more policed and tolerable now than it’s ever been. Once, all men were barbaric—had to be in order to stay alive. Now, fewer men can do much more damage with the limitless stream of technology and information. Live long enough, and you see the difference between a cruel world and a cruel society. At the end of the day, it’s all cruel. You can either fall prey or become the predator.”

“That sounds very wise,” she says, the bed dipping just barely, as she slides in beside me and nervously clears her throat.

I haven’t gotten to the wise part yet, or the reason for this carefully worded monologue I cooked up in my head. That’s just the intro, but clearly it’s a good start, if I do say so myself.

My eyes flick to hers, always fascinated by the changing dynamics in her gaze.

“You said you’d listen. How about I tell you a story, Violet? A story about cruelty lying in the hearts of the ones who truly believe their sins only made them better men of faith, honor, and most ironically, civility. The truth about how monsters are made.”

She nods. “Can the story wait?” she asks, tugging nervously on the ends of her sleeves, drawing my attention there.