Chapter 40
Violet's POV:
Evening snow fell in soft flakes against the windows of Blackwood Manor as I pulled on a deep gray turtleneck sweater and black skinny jeans, wrapping a red scarf around my neck.
I met Lily outside the Howling Moon Bar, and we found Sienna already inside, perched at the bar next to a golden-haired Beta, her cheeks flushed and eyes bright.
"You made it!" She shouted over the music, leaning close. "They're doing a Winter Heat Dance Contest tonight—five hundred dollars cash prize, plus drink discounts. You should enter, V!"
I shook my head immediately. "I don't need the money."
Sienna's grin turned sly. "That's not the point. Look around. Half the unmated Alphas and Betas in three packs are here tonight. Who knows? Maybe you'll meet your Mr. Right."
The irony of that statement made me want to laugh, but I kept my expression neutral and let Lily guide me to a booth near the stage, where dancers competed with fluid sensuality that made the crowd roar with appreciation.
That's when I saw him. Zane Carter, behind the bar, mixing drinks with mechanical precision. He'd lost weight, his face gaunt and eyes carrying a hollowness that made my chest tighten. This wasn't the sunny boy who'd once kissed Celeste with tender devotion. This was someone grief had carved into a different shape entirely.
About half an hour later, after watching Sienna flirt through two drinks and Lily's careful questions about how I was really doing, I excused myself to use the restroom. On my way back, Zane intercepted me near the back door, his expression urgent and pained.
"Can we talk?" His voice was rough. "Just five minutes."
I hesitated, then nodded and followed him out into the parking lot. Snow fell heavily, settling on our shoulders as we stood in the cold space between vehicles.
"Your alpha," Zane started, his jaw tight. "He's the one chasing Celeste, isn't he? You knew all along, didn't you?"
There was no point in lying. "So what? He does what he wants."
"Don't you love him?" The question came out almost as an accusation. "How can you just... stand there and do nothing?!"
A cold laugh escaped me. "Why should I care? I get his money, he stays out of my bed. Isn't that the perfect modern arrangement?"
Zane flinched as if I'd struck him. "I contacted Celeste a few weeks ago. She hasn't fully accepted him yet, but... she told me they've been honest about a lot of things." His voice cracked. "I never thought she'd become the kind of person who breaks up other people's relationships."
Something in his devastation touched a nerve I'd thought I'd numbed. I reached up and cupped his face with both hands, feeling the cold bite of his skin. "It's freezing out here. Go back inside. People change, Zane. Don't torture yourself thinking about it."
He nodded with defeated air and headed back. I followed more slowly, rebuilding the walls he'd managed to crack.
When I returned to our booth, Sienna was on stage, her body moving to a Latin beat with abandon I envied. Lily nudged me, grinning. "Come on, V! I remember you were in some dance club back in college!"
I was about to refuse when the bar's front door opened with enough force to admit a gust of cold air. Lucian Cross entered first, followed by Felix Hunt and Evan Thorne. Behind them came Daemon Blackwood, and on his arm, looking both nervous and beautiful in a simple cream sweater, was Celeste Morrison.
They moved through the crowd and headed straight for the VIP section on the second floor overlooking the stage. From my vantage point, I watched as Daemon pulled out a chair for Celeste with careful courtesy he'd never shown me, his hand gentle at the small of her back. When he poured her a drink, she shook her head with a shy smile, and he leaned close to murmur something that made her laugh, her cheeks flushing pink.
The pain hit me like a physical blow, sharp and unrelenting where the mate bond still pulsed. My hands clenched into fists as I watched him be for her everything he'd refused to be for me—attentive, charming, present. The alcohol I'd consumed mixed with something darker, something that tasted like fury and grief and five years of swallowed pride.
I stood abruptly and walked to the bar with increasingly certain steps. "Vodka. The highest proof you have." I paused. "Bottle, not a glass."
The bartender raised an eyebrow but complied. I didn't bother with measured shots or careful control. I tipped the bottle back and drank deeply, feeling the liquid burn down my throat and spread warmth through my limbs that loosened something wound too tight for too long.
The DJ switched to driving electronic beats, all bass and primal rhythm. I set the bottle down and walked toward the stage, each step more certain as alcohol and anger combined into something that felt almost like courage. I climbed onto the stage, and the lights hit me with intensity that felt like armor.
The music pulsed through the floor, through my bones, and I let it carry me with movements that started controlled but grew bolder. My hips swayed to the beat as I let my hands trail up my sides in movements that suggested without quite revealing. The crowd's cheers grew louder, and someone threw a red rose that I caught one-handed, bringing it to my lips with a smile that was all sharp edges.
Through it all, I kept my eyes locked on the VIP section, on Daemon. I saw the moment he noticed me, saw his entire body go rigid as his blood-red eyes tracked my every movement. His hands gripped the armrests so hard his knuckles went white.
Good. Let him watch. Let him see what he'd reduced me to.
I reached for the hem of my sweater, ready to cross a line I couldn't uncross, when every light in the bar suddenly cut out. Darkness slammed down and screams erupted as the crowd panicked.
Then I felt it. An Alpha aura so powerful it cut through the darkness like a blade. In the next heartbeat, iron fingers closed around my wrist, and Daemon's voice, raw with barely controlled rage, growled in my ear.
"Are you out of your fucking mind, Violet?!"
Somewhere in the darkness, I heard Celeste calling his name. He didn't respond. His entire focus was on me, and the mate bond thrummed with violent emotion.
Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was weeks of watching him court another woman while keeping me tethered. Maybe I'd simply reached the end of my capacity to care. I went up on my toes, wrapped both arms around his neck, and kissed him with all the fury and need I'd been choking on.
For one frozen second, he was stone. Then I grabbed his hand and pressed it against my chest, letting him feel my heart hammering beneath his palm. Whatever control he'd been clinging to shattered. His fingers tightened over my racing heart as his other arm came around my waist like an iron band, and he kissed me back with violence that stole my breath.
"Daemon... let's go home." The words came out husky and desperate. "Please."
His response was a growl. "Fine."
He swept me up into his arms and carried me through the crowd with single-minded determination. Snow hit my face as we burst into the parking lot, but I barely felt it.
He drove like a man possessed. The moment we crossed the threshold of the manor, something in both of us snapped. He pinned me against the bedroom door, and I met him with equal desperation.
His phone rang. I saw "Celeste" light up the screen, and watched as he moved to answer it on instinct. Something inside me turned to ice and fury.
I snatched the phone and hurled it across the room. "What's this? Like we're the ones having an affair, and she's the wife checking in?"
His eyes flashed pure crimson, and his hand gripped my jaw hard. "And you dare strip in a bar full of unmated males?! Were you planning to take everything off?!"
"You brought HER to drink!" I shot back. "We're even!"
My phone started ringing. Daemon grabbed it and threw it out into the hallway. Then his mouth was on mine again, and we fell into something that was more warfare than passion.
When I woke the next morning, every muscle ached. Pale winter sunlight filtered through the curtains. I turned my head carefully, half-expecting to find the bed empty.
But Daemon was still there, sprawled beside me with one arm across my waist. He'd stayed. For the first time in years, he'd actually stayed until morning.
His phone buzzed on the floor. I leaned over to look at it and my breath caught. Celeste's name lit up the screen.
I stared at that name, and something cold and reckless stirred in my chest. Before I could question the impulse, I reached down and picked up his phone. My thumb hovered over the answer button for just a moment before I pressed it and brought the phone to my ear.