Great. They get Violet to themselves, while I’m stuck with the inquisition into how they can be so rough with her.

I hate them worse than Damien hates Vance.

“A flower pot made her bleed. I’m sure it just sounds worse than it is,” I deadpan in recovery.

He pauses as if he’s considering that, and finally shrugs like it’s acceptable, as he starts up the stairs.

“You completely ignored my question,” I call to his back.

“I didn’t come up stronger, Emit. I went in watered down,” he chirps, treating it as though it’s a casual confession.

“What?” I ask him as I quickly catch up, glaring at his profile as he drinks blood from a flask.

He smirks around the edges of it before lowering it, still staring ahead as we slowly approach the loud room.

“Just curious, does Violet ever knee you in the bollocks?” he muses, knowing he drives me insane.

“No,” I bite out. “Now answer my question.”

He pulls out a very familiar apple and tosses it to me, even as my stomach sours at the sight of it.

It’s a beautiful red one with no scent at all. However, if you were to bite into it, it’d be the most disgusting thing you’ve ever tasted. It’s like you’re seeing and tasting two very different things.

“This is one of Idun’s apples,” I say, confused. “How did you get this?”

“I had to eat one a day for as long as I can remember. It was a rule she wouldn’t allow me to break. Naturally, it poisons me.” He pockets his hands when we’re standing in front of the room.

Both of us glance at the blade that’s stabbing through the door.

“When I went underground, I realized one very important thing: Idun broke my rules. That means I can now break all hers.” He taps the edge of the blade, studying it like he’s searching for its purpose. “Is this like the tie-on-the-door thing Shera was explaining to me when my sister and Isiah were fucking in my parlor?” he asks like he’s genuinely perplexed.

Only Isiah and Emily could get away with that.

“What rules did Idun break?” I ask him, forcing him back on topic.

“The only ones that really mattered, and all the unimportant ones too, it seems.” His eyes dart to mine briefly before moving to the side. “I thought you told them we were coming.”

I turn my head just as Shera walks over with a magazine, her fingers holding the pages, suggesting she doesn’t want to lose her place.

“I did,” she says with a humorless smile before pointing to the blade sticking out of the door. “That was the Van Helsing’s warning.”

“That’s Violet’s blade,” Arion tells her as if that calls into question all she’s said.

“I’m positive it was the Van Helsing who threw it at my head. I opened the door to tell them, and got it shut just in time,” she goes on, bristling just barely. “They want their privacy with the sweet and innocent Violet,” she adds somewhat mockingly. “I’m starting to think none of you know anything at all about her.”

“Violet doesn’t want to be her friend,” Arion says, gesturing at Shera as he grins, seeming to feel as though he has the whole world figured out. “That’s why she sounds so bitter.”

Idun’s supposed to be his whole world, and I’m not sure exactly what rules he found so important. I know better than to trust anything out of Arion’s soulless mouth.

“She’s a snowball downhill,” I tell Shera, even though I’m not entirely sure what it means. “I think it means she adapts quickly or something,” I add, happy that seems to confuse her as well.

“Of course she does. It’s why she likes all the little nobodies who go with the flow. She’s weaker,” Arion states like it’s a fact. “It’s why she’s so much more perfect.”

“I strongly advise against leading with that, Alpha,” Shera says as she starts flipping through her phone, already bored with this entire situation.

The impatient, alpha vampire pushes through the door when he hears Violet laughing. Violet startles, as Arion claps his hands, already smiling as his eyes drink her in. She’s holding a sheet over her, no longer surprised by our interruption.

Damien grabs a discarded robe from the floor, covering his bare body that is practically glowing from the fresh feeding. I idly note the destruction to Vance’s room. He doesn’t seem bothered by it in the least, and that speaks for itself.

I hate both those fuckers more than I already did.

“I do hope you remember she’s fragile,” Arion says as he glances around at the damage.

“It looks worse than it was,” Vance assures us as he clears his throat, cracks his neck, and starts pulling on his fucking Thursday pajama pants.

“Not really ready to be done just yet, but sure, come on in,” Damien says with a heavy dose of sarcasm, as he goes to take a seat on the couch and lights one of the cigars.

“If you didn’t want us over here, then you shouldn’t have sent the pictures. Though, I do admit I love the technology at my fingertips these days,” Arion says as he holds up his phone, smiling like the ass he is.

The color drains from Violet’s face.

“I was in a good mood and trying to be nice, and this is how you repay me?” Damien asks with narrowed eyes, glaring at the vampire.

“You sent them pictures?” Violet asks Damien on a shriek, certainly sounding horrified.

Vance continues to keep his back to us as he pours himself a drink.

“Just a few,” Damien tells her dismissively.

“Do you really not understand the word privacy?” Violet asks.

“I’m a sexual deviant by nature, and you crack a window open for me. How am I to know what your boundaries are?” he asks her with a grin, as she shakes her head.

“I told you not to reward bad behavior,” Vance says idly, as he passes her a glass of champagne.

She takes the glass from him and berates Damien a little longer. The entire dynamic between the three of them has Arion and I both staring in from the outside of their bubble.

It annoys me how much I feel as though I’ve been left out, because it makes me sound too similar to Arion’s ridiculous self.

During the middle of their almost nauseatingly playful banter, Lemon sends me a text informing me that Violet’s father is leaving later today. Probably for the best. She’s been too busy to deal with him.

“So you’re all going to delete the pictures?” she asks as I look up from my phone.

I’m not sure why she looks directly at me like she expects me to be the good one of the bunch. She realizes I’m the alpha wolf, right?

“I’m afraid I’m holding onto them,” I state without apology.

She blinks like she can’t believe I’d say that. Does the bloody girl think I’m some sort of wimp who’d cow to an unreasonable request?

Shera walks in, phone in hand. “You realize you’re with an elite set of alpha monsters, right? I’m sure you’ll catch on,” she says to Violet before redirecting her attention to Arion. “Emily has finally decided to start her own House and requests your immediate attention.”

It’s like a small bomb explodes in the far distance, and the ripple of air it releases sends a chill through us all. Such a large issue shouldn’t be so casually discussed without some sort of preamble.

“While we have a semi-private moment alone, I’d like to also request I stay in House of Arion and not transfer to House of Emily,” Shera is quick to add.

There’s a moment of silence, where we all digest the lunacy of Emily actually committing to forming her own House.

“I thought the Houses were labeled by surnames, and then there was just a pecking order,” Violet says, not understanding the severity of the situation as she leans back against Vance, still wrapped in her sheet.

His eyes meet mine over her head as his arm tightens around her middle.

“Arion’s my first and only name, love,” Arion tells her absently, even as his eyes stay on Shera.

Surely she’s heard us call him by his true surname…

“He had to drop his family name when it took on new meaning,” Vance says when Violet remains confused, not quite so empathic in this moment.

Then again, she never truly seems empathic…but at the same time does…

This girl is maddening.

“It would be House of Vampyre if it were my given surname,” Arion adds.

Violet sucks in a breath of understanding, but then glances around, gauging our expressions. I suppose if she’s heard us say his surname, she thought we were calling him a vampire…only with an accent.

I’m left guessing at all the thoughts in her pretty head, since she never shares very many, I’ve noticed.

“This isn’t a good thing, is it?” Violet goes on, her gaze still flicking between the three of us who aren’t solidly holding onto her from behind.

Fucking Van Helsing. Why am I jealous of Vance? I’m never jealous of Vance. Vance is a tool.

“I’m sorry if it complicates anything,” Shera continues with a tight expression, eyes still on Arion, “but I think my services would be best used in House of Arion.”

Arion slowly nods.

“It’s both calculated and smart to tell me in this moment,” he says like he’s mildly commending her, as he scrubs a hand over his jaw.

“I thought so as well,” Shera states like she’s well aware of her timing.

“Vance, feel like joining me this evening?”

Vance heaves out a breath in response to Arion’s question, and Violet leans up so Van Helsing can move out from behind her, even though I can tell it’s as hard for him as it was for me.

I glance over, seeing Arion’s eyes are just simply watching Violet, as Vance says something near her ear that none of us can hear. She smiles at whatever he’s said, while he pulls away like he’s said nothing at all. He walks out without another word, likely to head to one of his closets.

Shera exits behind him, and Arion stands like he really doesn’t want to deal with this evening.

“She’s said from the beginning that she would stay with your House,” I tell him as I lean back in my chair.

“But will Isiah give her up for Emily?” Damien drawls.

“All this tension is because Isiah may break up with Emily if Shera makes him choose?” Violet asks like she’s confused.

Arion smiles tightly. “If only it were that simple,” he says before walking toward her. He stops just short of her, as though he’s changed his mind. “I’ll pick you up at seven tomorrow,” he adds before walking out.

She just glares at his back, and then she turns her glare on Damien.

“Just curious, since when do you and Vance share time?” I ask Damien.

He grins and waggles his eyebrows, as Violet groans and drops back on the bed, covering her head with a pillow.