Marta just glares at me. “I know. That’s the point I was trying to make. As much as I hate all of you and find it disgusting that you’ve taken turns touching my daughter—” Her words tumble to a stop as she releases a dramatic shudder for effect. “—at the end of the day, I know the lengths four of you will go to for the woman you love. My feelings toward you are irrelevant, so long as you do your part to ensure I don’t have to see my daughter at the whipping post ever again.”
Emit is the quietest of us all, even though we’ve all decided to stop talking at once. I’m twitching. Arion’s patting Jasper’s back. Damien is tapping the side of his drink. Emit is simply staring at Marta like he’s holding back a question.
“What’s on your mind, wolf? Are you thinking about more kibble for your empty pit-hole stomach or is there something of importance you’d like to share with the rest of the class?” I ask to break up the intensity.
He runs a finger over his lips. “Violet’s monster tore down nearly fifty strong betas,” he states quietly, glancing over at Marta with intent eyes. “She’s afraid of it because of you.”
Marta swallows thickly, slinking in her chair.
“How strong is her monster?” Damien asks, leaning up as if this conversation interests him more than he can bear. “A pureblood Simpleton and Portocale isn’t exactly a typical Simpleton monster.”
“Neopry monster,” I point out. “We’re only calling them Neopry monsters until we figure out a better name for them.”
“PC culture,” Damien snorts with a roll of his eyes. “We’d have had our balls handed to us if we’d gotten our feelings hurt over someone looking down on us.”
“We turned ourselves into monsters because we were sick of people looking down on us,” I remind him with a huff of a tired breath.
They all shoot me a look.
“I did it because I loved a woman and was sick of fighting for my life every single day,” Damien retorts. “Unlike you.”
I bristle in my chair.
“I did it because I loved that bloody woman and wanted an eternity with her,” Arion states. “I’m now glad I’ve lived long enough to find a woman worth spending an eternity with.”
Marta wrinkles her nose at him, but redirects her attention to me. “I did it to ensure an eternity of misery to the lot of you.”
Bloody cutthroat bitch.
“I did it mostly for Idun, but I almost hated her for what I had to sacrifice,” Emit confesses. “I carried through with the second sacrifice because I couldn’t lose it all at once.”
I feel singled out. “I did it for Idun too,” I tell them, though it’s a shallow attempt at blending in.
“You did it because you’re a prideful man who couldn’t stand being so powerless in those times, simply because of your heritage. But you wouldn’t sacrifice your heritage for the sake of your pride, because you’re proud to be a gypsy,” Marta tells me with a roll of her eyes. “We’re not fools.”
“You loved Idun, but not like you love Violet. What would be your sacrifice for an eternity with her, Van Helsing?” Arion muses, smirking in my direction. “What would you say is the most important thing you possess?”
I don’t like the turn this conversation has taken, nor do I enjoy the way Marta Portocale is staring at me as though she’d also like to hear the answer to this question.
“The point is, we genuinely don’t know what Violet is capable of. She slaughtered a barn full of betas in under five minutes and broke a cement truck in half,” I carry on, bringing us back to the severe gravity of the situation, which is the important topic.
Marta blows out a heavy breath. “She’s an above-average Simpleton. Physically, consider her the top-tier beta form of the Simpletons, who we all know actually act more omega than alpha, as far as mentality goes. Unless there’s a need to fight, Violet reacts like a Simpleton, who defuses the situation with humor and nervous laughter. However, when she’s in survival mode, she has a supreme killer instinct, which I contribute to the Portocale in her veins,” she states in an almost muted tone, her hands wringing a floral handkerchief in her grip. “She taunted Idun because she wanted Idun to look weak, simply because no one knows just how much Violet can endure. But my girl has been blowing off body parts, while simply trying to make hair supplies, since she turned thirteen.”
With a distant look in her eyes that is genuine as hell, her lip trembles and she clears her throat, quickly recovering.
“She’s not Violet when her monster takes over. She’s just along for the ride, and she won’t remember, until her mind slowly pieces together what it can after the fact.” Her eyes water, and I think Marta Portocale is genuinely holding back tears right in front of us. “But Violet is still just a Simpleton, and they’re only capable of so much. Any of us, or any other alpha, would rip her to shreds with very little effort, if our monsters got out. She’s arrogant because she’s young.”
“Caroline’s monster—after all that torture—was still not strong enough to rip her apart while her guard was up,” Arion fires back at her, treating the situation with a tone that suggests he’s caught her trying to lie to us.
Marta looks confused, but she recovers quickly. “Caroline may be the strongest of the Simpletons, aside from possibly Bobo, but at the end of the day, she’s still just a Simpleton. Violet is part Portocale, and if her monster unleashes, she can put a Simpleton down, should the occasion call for it.”