Gypsy Origins

“I’ll paint your fucking toenails,” Arion says like it’s a reluctant concession, and I…consider kneeing him in the balls again.

“I don’t need to be calmed right now. I’m good for at least one more life-altering revelation for a while,” I murmur vaguely, since I have no idea what Arion does or doesn’t know at this point.

It’s all a headache.

There’s a board littered with a whole bunch of pins in it.

“You really should deal with Emily,” Damien tells him, looking his way.

“You should really deal with Dorian,” Arion counters with a fuck-off smile.

“Dorian isn’t my problem,” Damien says like he’s tired of saying this.

“Emily isn’t here to cause problems,” Arion says in a tone that suggests he’s winning an argument.

“The longer you keep her waiting, the more likely—”

“Emily can and will wait. Unlike the lot of you, my House stays in order,” Arion interrupts, shooting Damien an icy glare.

“I think you both should leave,” I tell them as I look back at Vance. “You’re too busy trying to argue to help, and Vance is the one who needs attention right now.”

Vance makes a small, pained nose, his fever getting worse by the second.

“Fine. But we’ll be back,” Arion says as though it’s not a big deal, and he comes over to kiss the top of my head.

I stiffen, mostly because I have no idea what’s going on inside his mind.

He cups my cheek, tipping my head back, as those dark eyes land on mine. “Easy, love. You’re the only person who shouldn’t fear me,” he murmurs as his lips brush mine.

Then he’s gone.

I swear…these guys…

“Whether or not he wants to admit it, he actually enjoys when Emily visits,” Damien says, making no move to follow him out.

“Unlike you, who hates Dorian,” I surmise.

“Idun fucked Dorian for the specific intention of hurting me,” he fires back immediately.

“And that means you can’t handle Dorian now?” I ask, confused by their logic sometimes.

“Dorian hasn’t stepped out of line since I handled him back then,” he says as he looks away. “Possibly the most ruthless I’ve ever enjoyed being. I was also a lot stronger back then. I fed regularly—before the nasty curse.”

“So you can’t handle Dorian until you feed,” I state aloud.

“Even then, I have no intentions of dealing with him. He’s beneath me now. Vance can deal with him.”

“You’re such a dick,” I mutter under my breath, feeling sorrier for Vance.

“Typically, yes, but in this case, I’m being wise. If Dorian beats me, he takes House Alpha.”

“So you mostly lack the confidence to beat him a second time, and don’t want him to know it,” I murmur as I stand to go open a window. “I need you to slit my throat.”

There’s a beat of silence, and I glance back to find him blinking at me, lips parted in surprise.

“How the bloody fucking hell did your mind take that twist from Dorian to slitting your throat?” he asks like I’m the one who’s insane for a change.

“If I bleed enough, my body gets just as cold as the outside. His fever is climbing.” My eyes dart back to the window when there’s a howl in the distance.

I’m not sure, but I think that’s Emit.

Shaking away from the distraction, I return my attention to Damien, even as I pat Vance’s chest. “Help me bleed so I can cool him down better.”

His gaze drops to my shirt when I start pulling it over my head.

“Violet, I’m a creature of sexual deviance. Maybe I’ve been numb for a while, but I’d appreciate it if you remember you recently awakened me.” His eyes land on mine as I toss the shirt aside. “There are far different things I’d rather do with your body that don’t include slitting your throat.”

“Help me help him, Damien.”

“And you’ll reward me?” he muses.

“It’s easier to slit my throat when I don’t see it coming. It’s hard to keep things completely shut off when I expect pain or strength. It’s why a flower pot can crack my skull, but you out of control doesn’t so much as leave a bruise,” I tell him quietly, keeping this serious. “Turning the switch on is something that can be done on accident. Keeping the switch completely off is harder to do. It’s more like a dimmer setting. My pain tolerance is high, so it won’t even really hurt, so long as I faint.”

His lips purse.

“I’m not sure I gather any of that. But anyway, back to my reward; it’ll need to be huge. I’m not fond of slitting your pretty throat, Violet. Certainly not for the sake of Vance.”

“Obviously you want something, so just say it.”

He’s on the bed beside me in the next instant, his lips gently brushing mine. “A full day with you. Sun up to sun up—you in my bed and in my full possession.”

A chill snakes up my spine when he levels me with the most intense stare I’ve ever seen.

“What?” I ask, though my breath comes out a little shaky.

“My rules. My touch only on that day. You can’t even leave unless you ask for my permission, because your body will be in my possession and belong to me for a full twenty-four hours,” he elaborates in great detail.

“I’m afraid I’m going to need more incentive than just slitting my throat then. I’m not sure what being in your full possession means, and Shera will probably slit my throat for free, so long as I never tell Arion.”

I arch an eyebrow at him, and his lips twitch.

“Shera knows about you?”

I’m almost worried that’s a dangerous confession.

“Shera’s a lot smarter than you all seem to think, and she’s piecing things together really quickly. She’s not going to go around telling anyone, though.”

“Of course not,” he says like he knows that already. “However, don’t tell her. I’m not comfortable with her having too much information about you. It’s best to play this wise.”

“The omegas pretend to be oblivious, but Lemon has dropped a knife around me twice and cut me on purpose. I think they’ve been testing theories of their own. It’s actually been easier to keep a secret from all of you than it has been to keep one from them,” I decide to tell him, since I’m worse at being discreet than I thought.

“Don’t read into all their actions. Omegas are often clumsy, and sometimes a little petty and passive-aggressive. Are you keeping up their lavish lifestyles?” he quips, not even realizing how they all talk down to them, Emit included.

“Omegas actually see and hear more than betas do,” I point out very carefully, since none of them really seem to notice that.

His brow furrows.

“Betas usually get kicked out of the room because they’re noticed. Omegas get forgotten about and simply overlooked. They hear and see more because no one thinks to kick them out of the room. I do, but I’m not some ancient alpha who forgets the world is changing around them while they stand still.”

When his lips start to thin like he’s annoyed with me, I press on.

“You’ve twice pulled the alpha thing on me, keeping the secrets you want to keep from me. About Fay’s death, for one. And then to assert your authority like you have some over me.”

His jaw grinds a little as he slips over on the bed, invading my space a bit more, but not in a way that makes me feel intimidated. He’s simply intent on listening for a change.

“You think me meek, timid, and weak, and sure…I am. It doesn’t mean I’m not still paying attention, Damien. Simpleton omega fool or not, I’m still getting the fucking gist, and I feel like I’m taking it exceptionally well. Stop dictating what I do or don’t get to know, because I’ve proven myself by now. And stop underestimating and overlooking the omegas, when the purebloods, who almost killed you, were exactly that. Look around. Things are still spinning.”

He looks away and fidgets with the ring on his left hand’s middle finger. There’s a crest on it that I’ve seen on his actual house.

“I concede that I’m sometimes short-sighted,” he says a little tightly. “However, you empathized with the wolves who were after Emit.”

“This is something that should have apparently been caught before it was in the hundreds, I would think,” I say with a shrug of my shoulder. “I see both points of view. I need more information before picking a side.”

“Picking a side?” he asks with a groan, and then he slowly shakes his head. “Violet, you fail to realize our role. We have to be firm and ruthless sometimes—fair or not. I understand the confusion. We were just as naïve in the beginning. Being alpha is not our reward—it’s our punishment: To forever be the monsters we were on one fucking night, because we created more monsters. I’m punished for one sin I never even committed, just as all of Arion’s family are punished with a thirst for blood. Vance is punished for being so shallow as to truly believe a piece of silver was what was most important to his entire family and himself. You don’t get to judge.”

It’s possibly the first time I’ve seen him actually angry with me. And he looks hurt.

I really don’t like feeling like I’ve hurt him.

“I’m sorry for sounding judgmental. The point of what I was saying is that I’m not judging anything yet. I’m just trying to collect more information and see both sides of things before I have any opinion at all, because even I know those wolves seemed desperate, and that was all unnatural.”

He huffs like he’s frustrated, but can’t seem to find something to say back.

“Even if I wasn’t a monster alpha who better understands the big picture more than your young mind can imagine, I still had to defend myself. We all did,” he finally tells me.

“I know,” I assure him.

He gives me an annoyed look.

“What will it take for me to have a full day with you?” he asks seriously, as if he’s tired of this argument and ready to move on.

“Ask me out on a date instead of trying to extort me, dick. Contrary to popular belief, I happen to like sex, but the four of you make it unnecessarily complicated.”

He struggles to keep a straight face, looking both caught off-guard and surprisingly amused.

“And quit stalling with slitting my throat to somehow better your agenda. It doesn’t score you any points at all. You lose some for every minute that ticks by and leaves him to suffer worse than he has to,” I add.

“Ice packs could work just as well,” he drawls.

“There’s a reason body heat warms better than anything else. I’m not actually sure what it is, but the same would seem true in reverse,” I counter.