Chapter 27
Violet's POV:
The drive to the riverside estate was a study in suffocating silence. I still couldn't wrap my head around his sudden eagerness—accepting an invitation he would normally burn and willing to drive me personally to the party.
We pulled up to the venue, a sprawling estate bordering the river.
The moment we became visible, the low hum of conversation on the lawn faltered. Heads turned. Glasses were lowered. It was the entry of the Alpha and his Luna, the Frost Pack’s power couple.
We hadn't taken five steps onto the grass before my inner circle intercepted us. Sienna Walsh was leading the charge, her eyes blazing with a ferocity that suggested she was seconds away from shifting right there in her stilettos. She had squared off with Daemon at the club, and the animosity was still radiating off her in waves.
"Violet," Sienna greeted me, though her glare was fixed entirely on my husband. "I didn't think he would be gracing us with his presence."
Daemon didn't even blink. He looked at Sienna with the bored indifference of a lion regarding a yapping terrier, his blood-red eyes sweeping over her face before dismissing her entirely. Without a word of greeting or acknowledgment, he extricated his arm from mine.
"I see Lucian and Evan by the bar," he said to me, his voice low and devoid of warmth. "Enjoy your friends."
He turned his back on us and strode away toward the group of high-ranking males near the patio.
"Complete asshole," Sienna hissed the moment he was out of earshot, grabbing my arm and pulling me into the protective huddle of our group. Jade Rivers and Lily Price closed ranks around us, their expressions a mix of concern and indignation.
"Don't let him fool you, Vi," Sienna warned, her voice dropping to a serious whisper. "He's playing games. Don't fall for that beautiful face again. It’s a trap."
Her words triggered a sudden, dizzying pull of memory. I was seventeen again, standing on the edge of a dusty training ring at the annual inter-pack gathering. Daemon had been twenty, shirtless and sweating after taking down three challengers in a row. He had looked up and smiled—a rare, genuine expression that had felt like the sun breaking through a storm. In that moment, I had decided I would do anything, endure anything, just to be the one he smiled at.
"Violet?" Sienna’s voice snapped me back to the present.
"I know," I said, taking a long sip of the champagne. The bubbles burned my throat. "I need you guys to keep me sane. Don't let me slide back. Promise me."
"We promise," Lily said softly.
The somber mood was broken by the arrival of Connor Hayes. He jogged up to us, looking breathless and happy, immediately wrapping an arm around Lily’s waist and pressing a kiss to her temple. The sight of them—uncomplicated, openly affectionate, and safe—sent a pang of envy through me.
"You two are disgusting," Sienna groaned, rolling her eyes, though there was no real heat in it. "Go find a room."
"We're just happy," Lily beamed, leaning into Connor. "You guys are just jealous because you're too stubborn to settle down."
Sienna let out a sharp, derisive laugh. She tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Please. I am never giving up my freedom for some possessive male who wants a housekeeper. I'd rather treat the dating pool like a hunting ground. I play with them until I get bored, and then I move on. Why buy the cow when you can just enjoy the steak?"
Jade laughed, clinking her glass against Sienna’s. "Amen to that. Men are exhausting. Give me a good sparring partner over a mate any day."
I smiled at their bravado, but my gaze drifted involuntarily across the lawn. Daemon was standing near the outdoor bar, surrounded by Evan, Lucian, and Felix. A woman in a shimmering silver dress had sidled up to him. She was touching his bicep, laughing too loudly, her body language screaming availability. I remembered her; she was one of the many flings he’d had during our first year of marriage, back when I still cried myself to sleep over his scent on another woman.
I watched, waiting for the sting of jealousy, but it was dull, muted by exhaustion.
Daemon didn't even seem to know who she was. His face was a mask of boredom. He didn't lean in; he didn't flirt back. He simply took a step away, creating a physical boundary, and resumed his conversation with Evan as if the woman were made of glass.
"He's ruthless," Sienna noted, following my gaze. "He uses people and discards them like wrapper paper."
"He's looking for something else," I murmured, a cold realization settling in my gut. He wasn't interested in flings anymore. He was hunting. And I knew exactly who the prey was.
"I need some air," I said abruptly. "I'm going to take a walk."
Before they could protest or offer to join me, I slipped away, heading toward the perimeter of the estate where the manicured lawn gave way to elaborate topiary gardens and high hedges.
I walked aimlessly for a few minutes, letting the noise of the party fade into a distant buzz. The sun was beginning to set, casting long, distorted shadows across the garden paths. I turned a corner near the maintenance shed, seeking solitude, but instead, I froze.
Voices drifted from behind a wall of tall privacy hedges.
"...please, Alpha, you can't be here."
The voice was trembling, female, and terrifyingly familiar.
I moved silently, my training kicking in, and peered through a gap in the dense foliage.
In a secluded corner of the garden, where the landscaping tools were stored, Celeste Morrison was on her knees in the dirt. She wasn't dressed for a party. She was wearing oversized, stained coveralls, her hands gloved and muddy, a pair of shears resting on the ground beside her. She was working. She was pruning the bushes to pay her tuition.
looming over her was Daemon.
Daemon reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a checkbook. He ripped out a pre-written check and held it out to her. "Take it. You don't need to be scrubbing around in the dirt like a servant."
Celeste stared at the paper, tears welling in her large blue eyes. She shook her head violently. "I can't take your money. I told you, Alpha. I have a mate. Zane... he wouldn't want me to act like this. We are from different worlds. Please, just leave me alone."
Daemon’s hand dropped. A chilling smile curled his lips, devoid of any humor.
"You think having a mate stops me?" he asked softly. "I get what I want, Celeste. I always get what I want."
"I can run," she whispered, a childish threat. "I can leave the pack."
Daemon laughed, a harsh, barking sound. He took a step closer, and Celeste flinched.
"You can't run from me. I'll find you. I'll always find you." He crouched down so he was eye-level with her, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper that carried clearly in the evening air. "I'm giving you one week. One week to figure it out. Go to that Delta boy and reject the bond. Break it. Because if you don't, I will make his life very difficult. Do you understand?"
Celeste let out a sob, burying her face in her dirty gloves.
I didn't intervene.
I turned and walked away, my heels sinking into the soft earth, leaving them to their twisted tragedy.
The drive home was suffocating. Daemon navigated the evening traffic with lethal precision, but the silence in the cab was louder than the roaring engine.
I realized with a sinking heart that I hadn't achieved the state of indifference I’d claimed. In my past life, I had only witnessed the final, destructive blaze of his love for her—the wars he fought, the sacrifices he made. I had never been privy to the details. Now that I was seeing the step-by-step process of him falling for her, I had to admit the truth: it left a sour taste in my mouth. That familiar, ugly jealousy was rearing its head again, proving that despite all my posturing, I wasn't immune.
Daemon didn't look at me. "Don't start, Violet."
"I said, stop the car!"
He slammed on the brakes, swerving onto the shoulder. The tires screeched as he turned to me, leaned across the console, and shoved the passenger door open. "Get out."
The cruelty took my breath away. If Celeste had thrown a tantrum, he would have locked the doors to keep her safe. For me, he opened them.
I stepped out into the cold night. "Fine."
Before the door even clicked shut, he floored it. The SUV peeled away.
I walked the mile to the commercial district and ducked into "The Stray Wolf," a dive bar where high-ranking wolves never set foot. I needed whiskey to burn the taste of betrayal out of my mouth.
"Double. Neat," I muttered, sliding onto a stool.
"Rough night?"
The voice was young and hesitant. I looked up and froze.
Behind the bar, wiping a glass, was a boy with messy brown hair and kind gray eyes. Zane.