Chapter 85
Violet's POV:
The storm had finally begun to ease. Through my living room window, I could see the rain had softened from a violent downpour to a steady drizzle, though thunder still rumbled in the distance. Daemon stepped back from the balcony door, testing the handle one more time. His shirt was still damp, clinging to his shoulders, droplets tracing down the side of his neck.
I handed him a clean towel. He ran it through his dark hair, then his blood-red eyes swept across my apartment, taking in the secondhand furniture, the water-stained ceiling tiles, the exposed pipes along the far wall. His jaw tightened with clear disapproval.
"Why living here alone?" he said. "An unmated she-wolf in a building like this. This place doesn't even have backup generators."
I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall. "Then you should be asking yourself the same question."
His hand stilled on the towel. He looked at me for a moment before answering, his voice dropping low. "Close to my workplace."
"Same." I pushed off the wall. "Your project here. How long is it going to take?"
He turned to face me fully. "Not sure yet. Could be a few months. Could be longer." A bitter smile twisted his mouth. "Don't worry. I'm not going to be one of those annoying stray wolves, following you around. You don't have to act like I'm going to stalk you."
The words hit harder than they should have. My mouth opened before I could stop myself. "You used to call me that. An annoying stray wolf."
The air in the room went dead.
Daemon's expression froze. I could see his jaw working, the muscle ticking beneath his skin. The memory hung between us—all those years when I had chased after him, when every attempt had been met with cold dismissal or worse, with that exact phrase.
Ember whimpered in my mind. I felt the sharp sting of humiliation all over again.
Daemon's fingers flexed at his sides. His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. But he didn't speak. Didn't apologize.
Because he couldn't. We both knew that.
The silence became unbearable. My gaze drifted to the coffee table where a small medicine bottle sat half-hidden beneath a magazine. I'd been careless leaving it out.
Daemon's eyes followed mine. In two quick strides, he crossed the room and picked up the bottle. "What is this?"
My heart slammed against my ribs. "Just vitamin supplements."
He turned the bottle in his hands, studying it. "Why are you taking supplements? Are you sick?"
"No." I moved toward him, hand outstretched. "Just preventive care. Give it back."
But Daemon held it out of reach, examining it more closely. "Violet—"
"That's my private medical business." My voice came out sharper than intended. "It has nothing to do with you."
Something flickered across his face. "I'm just trying to make sure you're okay. If you're sick or if something's wrong—"
"Then it's my problem to deal with." I snatched the bottle from his hand and shoved it into my pocket. "We're not mated anymore, remember?"
The words landed like a slap. Daemon's expression went carefully blank. "Right. Of course."
Then he left.
---
I barely slept the rest of that morning. By afternoon when I dragged myself to work, I was running on stubbornness and too much coffee. Around four o'clock, my phone rang.
"Linda's transfer request came through," Aiden said. "She's coming back to the department. Starts today."
I closed my eyes. "Understood."
After we hung up, I stared at my screen. Linda was coming back. Linda, who worshiped Celeste. Linda, who blamed me for everything.
At four fifteen, Linda walked through the doors carrying a box of her belongings. She made her way around the room, hugging everyone. When she reached my desk, the smile dropped from her face. She walked past without a word.
Ten minutes later, she appeared at my desk again, setting down folders with more force than necessary. She leaned down, her voice low. "Celeste resigned because of you. I hope you're satisfied now."
I looked up at her, letting a slow smile spread across my face. "Actually, I am satisfied. You know what? I bet I could get you fired too if I wanted to."
The color drained from Linda's face before flooding back in angry red. "You think you can do whatever you want just because you're an Alpha's daughter, don't you?"
"Yes. That's exactly what I think." I leaned back in my chair, my voice taking on a deliberately casual tone. "You know what? If Celeste's family background was as good as mine, she definitely could have married into the Blackwood family smoothly. Unfortunately..." I paused. "She doesn't have that advantage, does she?"
Linda's whole body was shaking now. I knew exactly what nerve I'd just hit—her sister Aurora had killed herself over the same issue, because her family background wasn't good enough for the Blackwoods.
But I didn't take it back. Didn't apologize. I just held her gaze steadily until she turned and stormed away.
I grabbed my bag and left the office early.
---
The parking garage was nearly empty. I was halfway to my car when I noticed a red BMW parked near the entrance.
Celeste emerged from the driver's side, wearing a cream trench coat and polka dot beret. Her supposedly injured ankle seemed perfectly fine as she walked toward the building in heels.
She hadn't seen me yet. I stayed behind a concrete pillar, watching. What was she doing here? She'd resigned.
Celeste glanced at her phone, smiled at something on the screen, and disappeared through the glass doors.
---
I barely made it home before my phone rang. Evan's voice was apologetic. "Sorry to call. Just finished an emergency at the hospital. The storm last night didn't scare you too much, did it?"
"I'm fine."
There was a pause. "I heard from Daemon that he went over to help you fix your balcony door."
My spine went rigid. "It was just a neighbor helping out."
"Violet." Evan's tone shifted. "If you need help with anything, you can call me. I mean that. Anytime."
The weight behind his words made my stomach clench. I knew what he was trying to say. "I appreciate that, but I'm doing okay."
We talked for a few more minutes before hanging up.
---
I dragged myself toward the parking garage, exhausted down to my bones.
When I finally reached my apartment building, I stepped into the elevator and pressed my floor button. Just as the doors were sliding closed, a hand shot through the gap and forced them back open.
Daemon stepped inside, carrying two heavy shopping bags filled with groceries. Fresh vegetables and cuts of meat were visible at the top.
My stomach sank. Probably making dinner for Celeste, I thought bitterly.
We stood at opposite ends of the elevator car, neither of us speaking. The air felt thick and suffocating. I kept my eyes fixed on the floor numbers lighting up above the door, counting down the seconds until I could escape.
Suddenly, the elevator lurched violently. The lights flickered once, twice, then died completely, leaving only the dim emergency lighting.
My heart jumped into my throat.
The intercom crackled to life. "We apologize for the inconvenience. The elevator has malfunctioned. Maintenance crew will arrive in approximately one hour. Please remain calm."
One hour. Trapped in this metal box with Daemon for an entire hour.
I backed against the wall, my hands gripping the railing behind me. Daemon immediately stepped forward, concern flashing across his face, but I held up a hand. "Stay over there."
He stopped, his jaw tightening. I could feel both our wolves growing agitated in the confined space. Even though we'd completed the rejection ceremony, even though the mate bond was supposedly severed, I could still feel it—that invisible thread connecting us, pulling tighter the closer we were.
Ember whimpered in my mind, wanting to go to him. I shoved her down hard.
Ten minutes passed in tense silence. The only sound was our breathing and the faint hum of the emergency lights.
Then my stomach betrayed me with a loud, unmistakable growl.
Heat flooded my face. I pressed both hands against my abdomen, mortified, but it was too late. Daemon had definitely heard.
He reached into one of his shopping bags and pulled out a piece of bread, holding it out to me. "Eat."
I stared at the bread, then at his face. "I don't need—"
"Just take it, Violet."
Something in his tone made me reach out and accept it. I took a small bite, intending to eat slowly and maintain some dignity, but the pregnancy hunger hit me like a freight train. I demolished half the bread in a few bites, barely chewing.
But it wasn't enough. The gnawing emptiness in my stomach only intensified. My eyes kept drifting to Daemon's shopping bags, to the apples I could see peeking out.
Daemon sighed and set both bags on the floor between us. "There's fruit and more bread. Help yourself."
I hesitated for only a second before grabbing an apple. I ate it quickly, then reached for another piece of bread. And another. Within minutes, I'd consumed two more pieces of bread and a second apple.
Only after I'd swallowed the last bite did I realize what I'd done. What this must look like. A normal person with simple gastritis wouldn't eat like they were starving.
I looked up to find Daemon watching me, his eyes narrowed in that analytical way that meant his mind was working through a puzzle. "Your appetite has increased significantly. That's not normal for gastritis."
My heart hammered against my ribs. "It's just... my stomach's been bothering me. Makes me hungrier."
"Violet." His voice was gentle but firm. "What's really going on? Are you sick?"
"I'm fine. It's nothing serious."
He didn't look convinced. He opened his mouth to press further, but at that moment, the elevator lurched again.
I stumbled forward with a cry. Daemon's arms shot out, catching me and pulling me against his chest. One arm wrapped around my waist while his other hand cradled the back of my head protectively.
I was pressed against him, my cheek against his shirt, breathing in that achingly familiar scent of cold cedar and leather. Ember practically purred in my mind, every instinct screaming that this was right, this was where we belonged.
I shoved against Daemon's chest and stumbled backward until I hit the wall again, putting as much distance between us as the small space would allow.
Daemon's arms fell to his sides slowly, reluctantly. His fingers flexed like he wanted to reach for me again. His eyes tracked my every movement, dark and intense.
Before either of us could speak, his phone rang, shattering the moment. He glanced at the screen and, without thinking, answered on speaker.
Celeste's sweet voice filled the elevator. "Daemon, my friends and I got a table at Moonlight Grill. Do you want to come eat hot pot with us?"
At the mention of hot pot, my treacherous stomach growled again. I cursed internally. You cannot eat food paid for by the other woman. Baby, you need to have some dignity.
Daemon's eyes flicked to me, catching my reaction. When he spoke, his voice was flat and cold. "I'm not coming tonight."
"Why not?" Celeste's tone turned petulant. "You haven't spent any time with me lately..."
"I'm busy." His voice grew even colder. "Another time."
He ended the call without waiting for her response.
I stared at him in shock. That wasn't how he used to talk to Celeste. Before, his voice had always softened when he spoke to her, had always carried that gentle warmth he'd never given me.
The silence stretched between us, awkward and loaded with unspoken questions.
I couldn't help myself. "You got what you wanted, and now you don't treasure it anymore?"
Daemon pulled off his jacket and laid it on the floor, gesturing for me to sit. "The floor's cold. Your health isn't good."
"I'm fine standing."
"Violet, sit down before you fall down."
The pregnancy exhaustion made it impossible to argue. I sank onto his jacket, drawing my knees up.
Daemon leaned against the wall across from me, his arms crossed. When he spoke, his voice was quiet and controlled. "How can I treasure something that I never had?"
I looked up sharply. "What does that mean? You're not with her?"
"No." His answer was immediate and firm. "Never have been."
My mind reeled. "Why not? You moved here for her. You're paying for her father's surgery. Everyone knows you chose her over me. Don't you like her?"