Gypsy Rising

“Violet stuck me in the friend zone. I’m going to remind her I’m one helluva romantic son of a bitch, far more so than any of you lot. Then she’ll be my bride.”

I drop the phone, barely managing to catch it before it hits the ground. Damien’s eyes are wide and round when I glance over at him.

Quickly, I pull the phone back up to my ear and say, “This is sudden. You can’t just claim Violet to be your bride after spending centuries begging Idun for—”

“I never asked Idun to be my bride. I knew she’d say no,” Arion drawls. “It’s the only way I can make Violet understand I’m choosing her. I’ll grovel for Violet in a way I’d never do for Idun.”

“And a way for you to gain some control over her,” Damien supplies, as he gingerly brushes Violet’s hair away from her face.

Her jaw makes a few snapping sounds, as it slowly pulls back into place. Idly, I wonder if she fainted on purpose just to avoid feeling all this pain.

I squeeze her hand in mine and kiss the back of it, as Arion goes quiet.

“You two have Violet with you, don’t you?” he asks quietly.

“She’s been injured, and—”

The bloody fast vampire is suddenly in the room with us, and I sigh as I pocket my worthless phone.

“Idun?” he asks sharply, cutting his slowly blackening eyes to me…as they begin collecting an alarming red pupil.

“No,” Damien and I say in unison.

“Who—”

“I’ll not tell you, because you’ll do something really unforgiveable in Violet’s eyes, according to her blue book, and she’ll be too angry with you to ever consider being your bride,” I tell him, manipulating him just a little. “Consider this a good favor, Vampyre.”

He runs two hands through his hair in frustration, jaw tensing, as he looks her over.

“If she’s this beaten up, it was clearly a strong Simpleton during a manic rage,” he says, repeating all our earlier assumptions.

The subtle scent of Caroline’s blood has slowly been overpowered and drowned by the stronger scent of Portocale blood that still spills from Violet’s wounds and onto my bed, saturating the comforter. Her scent seems weaker inside the veins lately, for whatever reason, but decidedly very Portocale outside of it.

“She knew it would happen. They panic too easily,” I state without the details about Caroline’s panic stemming from Violet denying us.

My free hand fights forming into a fist, because Arion is far too perceptive these days, something I’ve come to realize these past five months.

“She’s being ridiculous by refusing to have us there. I swore I wouldn’t harm one of them, but I could damn well prevent this shit from ever occurring,” Arion bites out, gesturing toward our very broken little monster.

“We all sat around jovially bonding over Idun’s asinine TV show, just as our fucked up bitch of an ex-girlfriend wanted us to do,” Damien says as he presses his forehead to Violet’s, likely giving her sweet dreams. “She’s not wrong for being pissed. She’s just insane if she thinks we’ll give up so easily.”

His eyes cut to mine as he adds, “Quite frankly, everyone should know better.”

Clearly he’s talking about the worried Simpletons, such as Caroline, who will likely have more and more manic rages.

“I see what’s going on right now. You two just shared a silent conversation I’m not privy to. What’s going on?” Arion insists.

Instead of answering, I ask, “What about your Monster Olympics, Arion? It sounds absurd.”

He drops to the bed and pulls Violet’s feet into his lap, carefully inspecting the swollen bruises around her ankles. His eyes gather darker red pupils that are slowly expanding.

With a harsh exhale, I notice him fighting the monster back into the cage, which is a rarity with the vampire alpha.

Not even I’ve ever managed to talk him into trying to cage the monster after it’s been summoned. He likes the freedom too much to assert that sort of control.

Until Violet.

With gentle examination, he continues to inspect her ankles while answering, “We’ll include all the alphas and prospective or current betas. Omegas will have a few events they can compete in, but they’ll feel the urge to serve, so we’ll have chores set up for them. Violet will love it. Then I’ll propose.”

I groan as I scrub a hand over my face. “You can’t be serious,” I mutter under my breath.

“Of course I’m serious. It’s time we all settle down, and Violet’s just the girl to do it with. Even Emit’s wolf knows it to be true,” the obtuse vampire argues.

“Too soon, Arion. Way too fucking soon. The damn girl just broke up with us,” Damien reminds him, even as he kisses the inside of her wrist, the place where the bonding mark goes on a female who has accepted an incubus as her Flame.

Another mark Idun never took…

“We have too much history with Idun. It’s intimidating to Violet,” I state very pointedly to Arion and Damien.

“All the more reason to prove she’s who we choose over—”

My doorbell chimes, and a shock of heat licks up my spine.

Arion and Damien’s eyes shift to mine.

“She’s like Beetle Juice. We said her name one too many bloody times,” Damien gripes dispassionately, betraying the unease in his eyes, as he shifts closer to Violet.