He’s chattier than I remember.

His eyes don’t meet mine.

Returning my attention to Emily, I give her a smile. “Idun won’t have say in my House ever again. It’s part of her punishment for breaking my rules. I was all she had left. She’ll take me seriously, and she won’t push me like she pushes everyone else. She knows better.”

Vance is studying me, but I pretend not to notice. Just like I pretend not to notice the tightly balled fists Isiah isn’t even trying to hide. I’ll stab his hands later for that, but not in front of Emily. She’s very melodramatic.

“She was supposed to be mine. I need her to run the House when I’m gone.”

“Funny. I need her to run mine when I’m home and when I’m gone,” I say with a shrug and a larger smile. “Guess that means I need her more.”

Isiah stands, bows to me, and turns to stalk out. Emily waits until the door slams behind him before she speaks again.

“If he chooses to stay for her and leave me, who will run my House?”

“I thought you were his Idun,” Vance states dryly.

“I thought that meant something different until my devotedly loyal brother, who has only ever touched one woman in his life, suddenly decides Idun no longer has any place in his House,” Emily states, eyes warily on me as the muscle jumps along the side of her jaw.

“You could always put in the time and energy to train your own beta,” I dutifully suggest.

“You’ve only ever trained one,” she says as if I’m no better.

“And you’re not getting her, so let’s wrap this up, shall we? Vance clearly has a pressing date, since he can’t stop looking at his watch, and I have a date to plan. It’s going to take me some time to figure out how to be believably pathetic between now and tomorrow evening,” I say dismissively.

Emily stands without another word and leaves, shutting the door quietly behind her.

“Shera also led me to believe that holding off on a new nest was Emily’s decision,” Vance says as he pours himself another glass.

“Shera is the little sister I always wanted Emily to be, so of course she told you exactly what I wanted you to hear. Shera’s smart like that, and knows when she should be honest and when she should hold her tongue.”

“Or when she should tell you that she’s pledging to you, which happened to conveniently be right in front of Violet. If she’s aware of the fact Shera wouldn’t stay if you were here for Idun, this would give our sweet gypsy the impression you’re choosing her instead of Idun.”

“Of course I’m choosing Violet. That’s why Shera genuinely feels confident enough to stick around in the first place,” I state dismissively. “However, she told me in front of Violet to ensure I made it happen. I’ll happily display my alpha authority and prove I take care of what’s mine. If I have to flex some muscle on Emily to win back the timid gypsy’s trust, so be it.”

He looks like he’s going to tell me something, and decides against it.

“Do not make Violet a target for Idun,” he finally says in a quietly lethal tone of warning.

I’m still uncertain why in the bloody hell they’re so easily going along with raising her just because Violet requested it. Then again, I only have a shard of my soul left, so some things naturally fly right over my head.

I meet his eyes, smirking as I stand, and catch the scent of wolf in the air.

“Violet’s the safest person there’s ever been. I assure you.”

“What does that mean?” he asks like he’s caught me being vague for a reason.

Which makes me study him a little harder.

“What else could it mean?” I ask, wondering what it is I’m supposed to know that I don’t. Emit did this same thing.

Spend enough time with people, and you learn ways to read their minds without having the actual words. I wish I had the actual words this time, though.

He glances at his watch again.

“We’ll discuss it later,” he says abruptly before turning and walking out, just as Emit walks in.

Vance doesn’t even slow down to acknowledge the imposing wolf.

“I’m going to need Violet’s blood—the blood of a true Portocale—to break the final lock on the seal,” he says to Vance, who just throws his hand up in the air, presumably to signal that he’s heard but doesn’t care right now.

“Will it be enough? To my knowledge, it needs to be the blood of a Portocale council member, but no one has contacted them,” I state idly.

“Violet’s blood will do. She truly broke Damien’s curse, Arion,” he says very seriously, and my lips tug up at one side.

If Emit’s convinced, so am I. Violet Carmine just keeps sounding more and more promising. If we stop treating her like a Portocale, and stop calling her one, she’ll never act like one again.

“That means she can break all of them without the council’s help.”

“The council can’t find out about her. If she doesn’t know about them, then it’s likely the same is true in reverse. Now, what good Portocale doesn’t get reported or found by the council, unless someone knows how to avoid them?” he asks me and begins waiting expectantly for a rhetorical answer.

“She doesn’t know about them, but that doesn’t mean they don’t know about—”

“Trust me. They know nothing of her, and I’d like to keep it that way. I’m sure Marta had a damn good reason to keep it secret, and I’m still working on figuring out what it was,” he cuts in.

He pauses, and I grow more suspicious when his very obvious should-I-tell-the-crazy-vampire-something-important expression crosses his features. What the bloody hell is being kept from me?

“If her blood truly worked to remove Damien’s curse, then I don’t see why it wouldn’t be strong enough to break a Portocale seal,” I finally concede. “But I’d rather use Portocale Council blood.”

“Why?” he asks.

“Because I don’t want Idun knowing Violet has Portocale blood to that caliber. She’s immune to the alpha curse, since she and her family didn’t mistake the Portocale blood,” I go on.

“Are you sure?” he asks in confusion. “Violet seems to be convinced otherwise, and to be honest, I’m positive Idun isn’t immune.”

My eyes level his. “Of the two of us, who truly knows Idun and her family better?” I ask him in a flat, detached tone.

His eyes sober. “Fair enough,” he confesses. “Proceed with your explanation,” he adds in a calmer, less obnoxious tone.

I capitalize on his rare moment of civility. “There’s no reason for Idun to know Violet has their sweet blood, just like there’s no reason for the Portocale Council to know Violet exists. I’d prefer it if they didn’t know, because then they’d try to take her away from us. I want to keep her.”

“Then how do we acquire Portoca—”

“The safe behind you. Use Idun’s birthday to unlock it, and you’ll find the blood you need safely stored and in mint condition,” I tell him, smirking when he glances at the wall safe and back at me.

“I spent a while trying to get her out myself, so don’t be so alarmed that I have some of the harder-to-get ingredients. Let me know if you need anything else. I’ll see what’s in stock,” I say as I head toward the door.

A subtle hint of a very familiar scent wafts over me just as I step out of the door. I sense the presence and smell the scent too late, reacting on a very out-of-character delay.

My hand snaps up and closes around a neck, as pain lances through my chest. Wood splinters burst and burn inside me, as I bite back a lovely string of words.

My eyes finally settle on the stupid fuck before me, and I fight my monster for the right to snap the prat’s head off his bloody shoulders.

“What the hell do we have here?” I ask, gritting through the burning pain.

I haven’t been caught off guard enough to catch a stake in the heart in too many ages to count.

My eyes land on Tom as I clutch his throat tighter, even as he shoves harder at the stake he’s forced through my heart. His face starts turning red, as he struggles for air, and his hands limply fall to his sides.

“Emit,” I call, but the werewolf is already walking out and sucking in a surprised breath.

Tom starts struggling anew the second I let him get some air. “I meant to ask this sooner, but I can’t kill him, can I?” I drawl, as Tom’s eyes widen.

“You can’t hurt him either,” Emit regrettably informs me. “Unless you want Violet to hate you real damn fast.”

I frown as I weigh my options.

“No. Don’t want her hating me,” I say as I release him with a sigh.

He sucks in a strangled breath of air, and I look around, noting we are completely alone. Grabbing the back of his shirt, I force the foolish man into the room.

Emit shuts the door behind us, as I curse and yank the stake out of my heart, shoving Tom to the center of the room. He stumbles over his own feet before quickly regaining his balance.

“Tom,” I say as I stare at the bloody stake in my hand, “I’m not sure what you were thinking. I thought we got along splendidly.”

My eyes cut to Tom, as Emit forces him to a chair with one hand on his shoulder, eyes narrowed on the very curious man…who doesn’t seem to fear death.

Now I know where Violet gets it from.

This man’s an absolute idiot and genius at the same time, because he knows I can’t kill him now.

“I don’t like you,” I decide aloud.

Tom nods like that’s acceptable.

“You really need to start explaining, because even I have questions,” Emit says to him.

“Don’t really reckon I know you,” Tom stoically tells Emit. “But he’s the vampire who’s trying to raise Idun, and he plans to use my daughter to do it. Marta wasn’t going to let it happen. She’s dead now, so that’s my job.”

Emit and I both exchange looks, and his jaw tightens just barely.

“What the hell is he talking about?” I ask Emit seriously.

“You’re raising Idun. I heard what you were saying,” Tom informs me very matter-of-factly. “You’re not using my girl, though. She’s too soft to deal with Idun.”

“You shady old codger,” I accuse. “You know exactly what’s been going on, and you left her ignorant to this entire world. She could have been killed.”

My gaze swings to Emit.

“Are you sure I can’t kill him?” I ask very seriously.

He makes a frustrated sound.

“Violet can take care of herself physically. But you break your toys,” Tom says, confusing me and pissing me off at the same time. “Violet’s not your new toy.” He gestures at the stake in my hand. “That was supposed to work.”