Chapter 10

ARION

My body and face a bit sore from the Van Helsing walloping I took, I slink through the hallways of Violet’s beloved Sanctuary.

Vance has apparently been working harder than he let on, because he was damn fast with quicker reflexes, and far fewer tics to give himself away.

But that was just what I needed. I’ve been working my ass off on this very thoughtful gift for Violet. Meanwhile, Damien Morpheous has gone and laid claim in the past few days.

Surely, he’s done by now…

My thoughts trail off when I catch a faint, familiar, edible scent, and turn to find Violet walking a little wonky up the stairs.

I tilt my head, watching as she hisses out a pained breath, presumably when her thighs touch.

“I bet you wish you had thigh gap right about now,” Anna says in a mocking tone, as she trails her. “You should have held off on that last pack of cookies before you lost your head.”

“I hate you,” Violet grinds out, wincing again as she struggles to hold her sheet up high enough to not trip over it.

She’s barefoot and in a sheet again. It’s becoming entirely too normal for such an abnormal thing.

“You rode a sexual deviant for days, and then let a werewolf join in. They defiled your body in ways that would make good girls blush and cringe. I’m so proud of you,” Anna says with a prideful sigh of content.

“Could you not be you right now?” Violet snaps, whirling around and jabbing a finger at her.

My eyes are drawn to her wrists. Vance wasn’t kidding. Damien marked her very thoroughly on both wrists. It’s as though she has Flame bracelets instead of one simple mark.

I guess we really are making the bloody rules up as we go. I need to find Morpheous and get some answers about this new development.

An inspired idea strikes, and I commit to revert back to my Ace days. The days when I watched and listened. I found out a great deal of secrets during those days.

Violet didn’t seem to have secrets then. Now she’s riddled with them.

For such a young monster, she certainly has a great deal of audacity with her demands, and a growing cloud of intrigue surrounding her.

She never spots me, nor does Anna, as she heads into her room. The door slams in front of Anna’s face, but she simply ghosts right through it, laughing as though she finds Violet’s theatrics amusing.

I’d also like to finally grill Marta Portocale and find out who the fucking hell she told my secrets to. There’s no other way Idun could have known about the fact I projected from the grave and spied on my old chaps.

Violet couldn’t tell her. Nor would she tell a soul, aside from Vance, Emit, or Damien. So who did Marta tell and why? What is that devious Portocale up to?

With two new targets on my mind, I peer inside Violet’s room, curious to see what she’s up to.

Anna’s eyes meet mine, and the devilish ghost grins at me, while Violet softly snores on the bed she’s haphazardly crashed to.

“They wore her out. Again. Interesting how Damien’s monster recognized Emit as her mate, huh?”

I have no bloody idea what she’s talking about.

Shutting the door on my exhausted, soon-to-be bride, I blur from room to room, searching for Marta’s scent.

Violet’s damning, scent-masking apples. That’s why I couldn’t smell her that time she sat in the room next to us, while I happily defiled her daughter’s body. Not the ludicrous bullshit she spewed when confronted for an answer.

Violet trusts her mother with blind loyalty.

I can’t forget who Marta Portocale really is.

I hear her voice, which guides me in the absence of her scent. I’ll be collecting my own set of apple-infused body washes before leaving here today.

“She just ended her relationship with the four of you, and the wolf claimed her. As if that’s not bad enough, now you’ve gone and done the same thing! We’re speaking of all eternity, Damien Morpheous,” she bites out, hissing his name.

Right then. I’ve found both my targets at once. That should save me some time.

I glance around, finding the hallways eerily empty and silent. There’s not a single scent around, and I don’t like it. I know people are here. I’m growing more and more suspicious of my girlfriend’s shampoos.

But Idun can mask her scent anytime she wants to take the form of another, acquiring the scent of their blood—weak or strong. I suppose scents aren’t all that relevant with her running amuck again.

Turning to head through the doorway and announce my spying, I hear Damien’s voice and come to an abrupt halt.

“After Idun became immortal, her skin-walking abilities expanded,” Damien randomly says, confusing me with the abrupt change in conversation.

“I’m well aware,” Marta bites out. “We’re discussing you and that rotten wolf binding my daughter to you with marks so much more substantially larger than the norm. I will find a way to reverse—”

“As those abilities expanded, she grew almost unstoppably powerful,” he continues, interrupting her, his voice remaining icy.

Barely peering around the corner, I take in the very stern, almost angry look on Damien’s face.

“Don’t lose your head, Violet,” he says in a nearly mocking tone, causing Marta to narrow her eyes.

He scratches his head, taking a step back, laughing bitterly under his breath.

“It implies you knew she was going to turn immortal. But how could you possibly suspect any such thing?” he asks her, slamming his hand on the wall beside her face.

“You dare to—”

She cries out in pain suddenly, her hand reaching to her head as blood trickles from her nose.

Just what the hell do we have here?

How the hell is Damien penetrating Marta Portocale’s mind?

“Why haven’t you given Edmond an old-fashioned ass-stomping? Why haven’t you been more riled by us being with Violet? Why are you playing things this emotionlessly, when you’re the most passionate out of all of us? How is it your Portocale blood isn’t boiling with me this close?”

He snarls at her, and she straightens, the pain clearly gone from her, as her jaw grinds. When her eyes narrow, he backs up a few respectful feet, never removing his gaze from her.

“How did you do that?” she practically demands.

“For the moment, I’m high off the rush turning Violet into my Flame gave me.”

Marta cuts her gaze away, the muscle along her jaw jumping.

“It does kill you for her to be ours. Considering our lengthy, dark history, it’s rather unsurprising, and even warranted. Start answering my questions, because there are too many more questions piling up. I’m not standing still right now, Marta. I’m not turning a blind eye anymore. She’s my Flame now.”

“And my mate,” comes Emit’s voice, while he enters from the other side of the room.

Damien doesn’t seem overly concerned with the intrusion, as Emit stands on Damien’s side like the two of them are a team.

What’s this new development?

See?

Watching and listening does do some good. I wish I could turn invisible. Damn Damien Morpheous for having that edge.

With these scent-masking apple products of Violet’s, he’ll have ample opportunity to spy on anyone, unseen and without scent.