Chapter 88
Violet's POV:
The video call request from Zane blinked insistently on my screen, his name glowing against the darkness of my bedroom. My thumb hovered over the decline button, guilt tightening around my ribs like a vice.
But curiosity—and perhaps something deeper, something that whispered I owed Zane at least the courtesy of acknowledgment—made me accept the call after several seconds of hesitation.
Zane's face filled the screen, and I barely recognized him. His previously styled hair had been shaved down to a military-style buzz cut. He wore a work jacket stained with cement dust, the fabric worn at the elbows. Behind him, bare concrete walls and a narrow bed suggested dormitory living.
"Violet!" His voice cracked with excitement. "You finally unblocked me!" He ran a hand over his cropped hair with a self-deprecating grin. "How do you like the new look? Very 'Gamma warrior', right? My foreman says I look like I just got discharged from boot camp."
I managed a small smile despite the complicated emotions churning in my stomach. "It's different. Very practical for construction work, I imagine."
"I'm doing an internship now—the university arranged it," he explained, his enthusiasm undimmed despite the exhaustion evident in his posture. "Working at a small real estate development company, mostly on-site project management at construction sites. I just got my first real paycheck—the actual internship wage, not just the probationary rate." His pride was genuine and touching, the kind of simple joy that came from earning something through honest work. "I wanted to use it to treat you to dinner, or buy you something nice. You saved my life that night with those Rogues, and you've been so kind—"
"Zane." I cut him off gently, my throat tightening. "You don't need to spend your hard-earned money on me. Save it. You need to build capital, not throw it away on expensive gestures."
His face fell slightly before rallying with determined optimism. "But I want to! You've done so much for me—"
"Listen," I said firmly but not unkindly, "I'm planning to return to Wildfire Pack territory soon for Full Moon Day. Why don't we meet up then? There are some things that I'd like to discuss with you."
The transformation was instantaneous. His gray eyes lit up with desperate hope that made me intensely uncomfortable because I recognized it too well—the same pathetic eagerness I'd worn during years of chasing Daemon's attention.
"Really? That would be amazing, Violet!" His voice went up half an octave. "Just tell me when and where, and I'll be there!"
"Just take care of yourself until then, alright?" I said, guilt settling deeper into my bones.
"I will, I promise. Thank you, Violet. I'll see you soon!"
The call ended, leaving me staring at my reflection in the darkened screen. When had I become this person—someone who calculated emotional costs and strategic advantages, who used people's feelings as leverage?
I stood, needing air despite the late hour. The hallway was dim, lit only by yellowed wall sconces. I pushed open my door and nearly collided with Celeste and Riley descending from the floor above.
Riley's features twisted into theatrical disgust. "Oh, wonderful. The second unpleasant encounter of the evening. You know, if we'd known Daemon wasn't home, we wouldn't have bothered coming at all."
I met Celeste's gaze directly. Her expression cycled through surprise and wariness before settling into something colder than her usual fragile-flower persona. There was no point in pretending anymore—not after I'd made it clear I knew exactly what she was.
"Careful, Riley," I said with a cold smile. "Your mouth is going to get Celeste in serious trouble one of these days."
Riley opened her mouth to respond, but Celeste's hand shot out to grip her wrist hard. "Don't. We're leaving. Now."
The elevator chimed, and Kael stepped out, freezing when he registered our hostile configuration. "Celeste, Riley. Violet." His tone was carefully neutral.
"Kael, perfect timing," Celeste said, recovering quickly though her knuckles were white on Riley's wrist. "Daemon's still waiting for us downstairs, isn't he?"
"Right, yes. Let's go," Kael said, desperate to escape this minefield.
They moved toward the exit in a cluster. I followed at a deliberate distance, making my way to my car. The black SUV idling near the entrance had windows too dark to see through, but I could feel eyes on me. I refused to turn around, refused to give them any reaction.
If Celeste is smart, she'll stop pushing me, I thought coldly. If she stops provoking me, stops showing up in my face, I might just let it go. Let her and Daemon play out whatever future they think they're building together.
But if she kept dancing in front of me, kept flaunting her victory, kept trying to grind my face in the dirt—then I'd take everything I'd learned today, every recording I had, and dump it all online for the world to see. The truth about how she manipulated her way into Daemon's life, the recordings that proved her calculated pursuit, all of it would be enough to ensure her complete social destruction.
And once her reputation was in ruins, there was no way the Blackwood family would accept a disgraced Cinderella into their ranks, no matter how much Daemon thought he wanted her.
The 24-hour night market district beckoned with its neon signs and mingled aromas. My pregnancy-sharpened appetite roared to life, and I followed my nose through vendor stalls, accumulating takeout containers with single-minded determination.
I was reaching the final stall—a mobile fried chicken vendor with one golden portion left, just being lifted from the bubbling oil. The crispy, golden perfection made my mouth water despite everything I'd already consumed.
"Boss," I started, stepping forward, "I'll take that last—"
"Boss! I want that last portion of fried chicken!" Riley's voice cut through mine, deliberately loud and aggressive. "My friend really wants it!"
I turned slowly to find Daemon, Celeste, Evan, and Kael clustered near a neighboring beverage stall. Daemon's blood-red eyes found mine immediately, surprise flickering across his features—probably wondering why I was here eating my way through the night market when he'd delivered enough food to my apartment hours earlier to feed two people.
The elderly vendor looked between Riley and me with the weary patience of someone who'd dealt with entitled customers before. "The young lady in the red dress spoke first," she said firmly, gesturing to me.
"Alpha Daemon," Riley pivoted with artificial sweetness, "Celeste really wants fried chicken. Could you help her?"
Celeste's baby-blue eyes turned to Daemon with calculated vulnerability, her lower lip caught between her teeth. Pure expectation radiated from her—the confidence of someone accustomed to getting what she wanted based on big eyes and trembling lips.
Daemon remained neutral, his attention fixed on me rather than jumping to Celeste's aid. Evan's expression held concern mixed with suspicion about my eating patterns.
The vendor handed me the wrapped chicken. A reckless impulse seized me—the same self-destructive satisfaction I felt when deliberately pushing boundaries.
I thrust the package toward Celeste with a smile that was all teeth. "Here. I already ate—this was for a stray dog I sometimes feed, but since you want it so badly, take it."
Color drained from Celeste's face, her composure cracking as tears filled her eyes.
"Violet!" Daemon's voice carried a warning growl.
Riley shrieked: "How dare you call Celeste a stray dog!"
"Interesting," I interrupted coolly. "I said I was buying food for a stray dog. You're the one who assumed I meant Celeste. Why would you make that connection?"
The logic was cruel and airtight. Riley flushed with embarrassment and rage as she realized I'd verbally checkmated her.
"Well," I said brightly, "this has been fun, but I should get going." The doctor mentioned that pregnant women need stable emotions—apparently it's better for the baby's future temperament. I'll remove myself from this toxic situation.
I turned and walked away.
I drove home with windows down, satisfied. After washing up, I fell into bed, exhausted but oddly content. A text from Evan appeared before I slept: Still want fried chicken? I can bring some over.
Not necessary, but thanks! I replied, then silenced my phone and surrendered to sleep.
---
The next morning, I woke to sunlight streaming through my windows and my phone buzzing with messages. The company had announced a three-day Full Moon Day weekend. Perfect timing—I'd been planning to return to Wildfire Pack territory anyway.
I called Sophia, my aunt. "I'm heading back to Pack territory. Want to share the private jet?"
"Wonderful timing, dear," she said warmly. "I've been meaning to visit. Let's leave tonight—avoid the holiday traffic."
By midnight, we were airborne. Sophia dozed in her seat while I stared out at darkness below, one hand resting on my barely-there bump. The familiar landmarks of Wildfire Pack territory appeared as we descended—rolling forests, the glittering lake, the sprawling Goldcrest estate with its warm lights.
The car service dropped us at my family's door. I pushed it open to find my parents still awake in the living room, fireplace crackling.
"Mom, Dad!" I dropped my bag and rushed into my mother Eleanor's arms. "I missed you so much."
She held me tight, stroking my hair. "We missed you too, sweetheart. Have you eaten? I can make something—"
"We ate on the plane, but I could always eat more," I admitted with a laugh.
My father Marcus pulled me into a bear hug. "It's good to have you home, Vi."
We talked until three in the morning—about work, about Silver Ridge. When my mother's eyes finally started drooping, I kissed them both goodnight and retreated to my bedroom.
I slept until noon, waking to Eleanor gently shaking my shoulder. "Lunch is ready whenever you want it, honey. No rush."
Downstairs, the dining room table was laden with my favorite dishes. Over soup, my mother ventured carefully: "Is Daemon back in Pack territory too?"
"I don't know," I said honestly. "I didn't ask."
Marcus's face darkened. "Vi, you can't keep having anything to do with him. He moved that Morrison girl to Silver Ridge, followed her there himself—you can't keep being foolish about this."
"Dad, I don't have a self-destructive streak," I assured him. "I'm not chasing after someone who doesn't want me."
"Good." He nodded with satisfaction. "You're not lacking for options. Don't undervalue yourself."
"Tomorrow's Full Moon Day," Eleanor said, changing the subject. "Your grandparents' graves are at the cemetery on the Frost-Wildfire border. We'll go pay our respects in the morning."
That afternoon, my phone rang with Sienna's face filling the screen. "Violet! Come out and play!"
"What did you have in mind?" I asked, already smiling.
"Barbecue at that farm on the outskirts—the one with the outdoor pits. Lily and Jade are coming. We're making Lucian pay for everything."
"I want roasted lamb," I declared.
"Done! We'll eat however many you want!" Sienna laughed. "I'm messaging the group chat now."
Within minutes, the plan was set. I grabbed my keys and headed out, anticipation lifting my spirits for the first time in days.
The farm's outdoor barbecue area was exactly as I remembered—rustic wooden tables, massive charcoal grills, strings of lights overhead. Sienna, Lily, Jade, Lucian, and Felix were already there when I arrived.
My three friends swarmed me immediately, chattering and laughing, creating a bubble of warmth and normalcy. Lucian and Felix hung back, slightly awkward given our complicated history, but civil.
The roasted lamb was perfect—crispy skin, tender meat, the smoky char that only open-flame cooking could achieve. We ate and talked and laughed, the easy camaraderie of old friends washing away the tension of recent weeks.
Then Sienna's face changed, her gaze fixing on something behind me. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me," she said flatly. "Celeste is back in Pack territory too?"
I turned slowly, following her stare. There, emerging from a car in the parking area, unmistakable even at this distance, was Celeste Morrison's honey-blonde hair catching the late afternoon sun.