Violet's POV
I was already regretting stepping into the kitchen. As soon as the blood started dripping from my hand, I knew this would turn into one of those moments where everything would spiral out of control. I should’ve kept my distance—kept my hands off her damn mess. But of course, here I was, standing in front of her, trying to calm her down, trying to be the one to clean up the chaos she always seemed to leave behind. But it wasn’t even her fault, not really. It wasn’t her fault that she couldn’t let go, that she felt like she had to carry everything alone.
But this? This wasn’t how I expected it to go.
Before I could even wrap my head around the pain in my palm or how to stop the blood from dripping onto the floor, the door slammed open, and in walked Logan and Xaden. Both of them stopped in their tracks at the sight of me, the blood, and Avery standing there, looking like she’d just committed the worst crime of her life.
Logan’s eyes widened first, followed by Xaden’s sharp intake of breath. Both of them seemed to freeze for a beat before their attention shifted back to me, and I could feel their eyes on my hand, like I was some fragile thing that needed to be handled with care.
Before either of them could say anything, I spoke up, my voice steady despite the sting in my palm. "I'm fine," I said, quickly pulling my hand away from Avery, my fingers still slick with blood. "It's just a scratch, nothing serious."
But of course, Logan didn’t listen. He moved toward me in a flash, his eyes dark with concern. "Violet, you're bleeding," he said, reaching for my hand, his touch gentle but firm. "We need to get that cleaned up."
I pulled my hand back, not wanting either of them near me. The idea of them fussing over me made my chest tight. I didn’t want their pity, their overbearing concern. And certainly not their help. "I said I'm fine, Logan. It's really not a big deal."
But his frown deepened, and Xaden was already stepping closer too. Damn it. Why did everyone feel the need to take over? I could do this myself. "Violet," Xaden said, his voice calm but insistent, "Let us help you."
I felt my teeth clench. I hated how soft their voices were, how worried they were. It made everything feel so much more dramatic than it needed to be. "I'm not some fragile thing that needs your help, alright?" I snapped, but the words came out sharper than I intended. "I can handle a little blood."
I could feel their eyes on me, and I hated it. Hated how their concern made me feel small, like I wasn’t allowed to be independent, like I wasn’t allowed to stand on my own. I didn’t need them to hover over me.
But of course, Logan didn’t listen. His hand moved to grab mine again, and I could feel the tension building in my chest. I jerked my hand back again, this time harder, and I saw the flash of frustration in his eyes. "You're not fine, Violet," Logan said, his tone clipped. "Let me help you."
The words were soft, but there was something underneath them. A possessiveness that I couldn’t ignore. The way he looked at me, the way his gaze lingered on my hand, it wasn’t just concern. It was more than that.
I didn’t know what it was, but I didn’t want to deal with it. Not now. Not when everything felt so complicated.
“Stop it.” I could hear the irritation in my own voice. "I don't need either of you to make this worse than it is. I'm fine."
But instead of stepping back, Logan and Xaden moved in even closer. Xaden’s hand was now hovering just inches from mine, while Logan's gaze was locked on Xaden’s hand like he was about to rip his arm off.
I could feel the tension between them, the unspoken competition that had always been there, simmering just below the surface. It was always like this when they were together. Logan was always the first to act, the first to want to take charge, while Xaden was the more patient one, always waiting for his turn to make a move.
“I said I’m fine!” I almost shouted, my patience finally cracking. “Why is it so hard for you two to just let me be? I can take care of myself.”
Logan’s jaw tightened, and I saw the flicker of something darker in his eyes—jealousy, maybe? I didn’t know, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to figure it out. He stepped forward again, this time with purpose, but Xaden’s hand shot out to stop him.
“What’s going on with you two?” I demanded, unable to hold back the frustration anymore. "You both act like I can't handle myself. Like I'm some damn damsel in distress that needs to be rescued."
Xaden turned to face me, his eyes softening in that way that always made me feel like he was trying to read me—like he was trying to understand every little thing I wasn’t saying. "We don’t want to make you feel weak, Violet," he said carefully, his voice low and steady. "We just want to make sure you’re okay. You don’t have to do everything by yourself."
I scoffed, shaking my head. "I’ve been doing it by myself for a long time, Xaden. I don’t need anyone coming in and telling me how to handle my own problems. I can take care of my own damn hand, thank you very much."
Logan’s hand was still hovering close, but it was his eyes that caught my attention now. There was a strange kind of conflict in them, like he was torn between wanting to be close to me, wanting to protect me, and this raw frustration that seemed to be building with every passing second.
It was confusing. Everything was confusing.
"Violet," Logan said, his voice quiet, but there was an edge to it, a roughness that made me freeze. "I’m not asking you to do everything on your own. I’m asking you to let me in, just for once. You don’t have to fight me every damn time."
His words hit me harder than I expected, and for a moment, I felt like I was drowning in everything I had been holding back—everything I’d buried so deep inside. I stared at him, and for once, I didn’t know how to respond. How could I? What was there to say when everything I had been doing was just... self-sabotage?
"Just... let me help you," Logan said again, softer now, his eyes searching mine.
I took a step back, my chest tight. I wanted to say no. I wanted to push them away. But the look on their faces, the way they both seemed to care more than they had any right to, made me falter. Maybe it was time to let go—just a little.
"Fine," I said finally, my voice quieter than before. "But only because you’re both so damn persistent."