Chapter 49 Chapter 49
Violet
I should have felt happy or relieved to finally have made Elijah feel what it felt like to be ignored and walked away from. But he ruined that plan of mine with that unexpected kiss.
It made me feel like I had sinned. I had no idea just a kiss could make me feel so filthy and turned on.
The look in his eyes, the hunger with which he devoured my lips...I didn't have words to describe how angry yet needy I was in that moment.
I was the one who slapped him, yet he walked away as if he had won a battle against me.
The mere thought of his reckless act had my fingernails digging into the steering wheel that I gripped too hard. I had no idea why I was so confused whenever it was about him or why my mind and body always had polar opposite reactions to him.
Not once had he stopped Gavin and Tyler from speaking ill about me, and now he just congratulated me as if he was happy to get rid of me after using me to release whatever pent up sexual frustration he had and on top of it all, had the audacity to call himself 'my friend's brother'.
He threw those words at me as if they were swear words. The next time I saw him, I would not just stop at one slap. Maybe I'll throw a few punches and knock him out. Or maybe ignore his existence completely.
Well, good riddance then.
I was happy with my life and the new chapter it brought forward. In under thirty minutes, I was back home and put on my reading glasses to immediately hide my moist eyes.
They had no business getting teary for someone who didn’t give a fuck about me.
The home was quiet, and the maids told me that my parents had gone to attend some party in one of the neighboring packs.
It was good that they didn’t drag me with them.
Mom had left a note for me, informing me to give her a call if I felt lonely or needed something.
Cute.
I dedicated the remainder of the day to research all over again about jewellery designs. Mom’s PDF file of the recent trends helped as well, but I felt I wasn’t quite hitting the inspiration yet. Because to me, they all looked the same.
The problem was not a lack of original ideas.
If anything, it was the opposite.
They crowded my mind the moment I sat down, overlapping and competing, each one tugging at me, wanting to come to life on paper.
I flipped through my sketchbook slowly, my fingers grazing the edges of blank pages as if they might recoil from me if I pressed too hard.
Traditional designs jumped at me first. Elegant pendants and delicate chains that I could draw in an instant. Pieces meant to be admired briefly and then forgotten in the bottom of a velvet box.
Pretty. Safe. And completely boring.
My gaze drifted to my wrist without conscious intent.
I turned it slowly, watching the subtle mechanics beneath my skin, the way bone shifted against tendon, the way muscle flexed and released even when I wasn’t aware of it. And that made a thought pop up in my head.
Werewolves weren’t creatures of stillness. Even at rest, we were poised for movement.
And I also thought of fusing our traditions and culture with the designs.
I straightened, flipped to a fresh page, and instead of starting with a pendant, I drew a chain.
It was not thin and not too delicate either. I drew interlocking links, which were slightly flattened so they would lie comfortably against skin rather than digging into it. I slowed my hand, sketching small, nearly invisible clasps at measured intervals.
It was a sketch of a necklace at first, but then another idea struck and I shortened the length.
The same chain was now wrapped twice around a wrist, resting naturally against bone and pulse like an elegant bracelet.
It looked exciting, but I wanted to push myself further, so wondered what else could be done with it.
I shortened it further and looped around a section so that it became an anklet positioned just above the bone, flexible enough to move with a stride rather than resisting it.
It wasn’t weird or bizarre, like my mother feared, but it wasn’t dull either.
I added notes along the margins, my handwriting growing more confident with each line.
Hidden clasp system
Balanced weight distribution for movement
This time, I reached for a ruler because precision mattered here and shaded sections differently to indicate variations in material, including brushed steel, warm gold, and oxidized silver.
And then Rain whispered to me. "Add a personal symbol somewhere, something subtle."
I didn't want it to be too on the face, hence I drew a small pattern on the inside one of the links. It was almost invisible unless someone knew exactly where to look. I sketched a shallow engraving, a personal signature of sorts.
Three curved lines, on which I drew the letter V.
I smiled at that, turned the page and another thought popped up in my head.
How about jewellery associated with hierarchy? Alpha, beta, gamma, even Luna. Matching sets.
I hesitated, the corner of my mouth lifting despite myself.
When I finally leaned back, my breath was uneven, my desk scattered with ideas that felt more like a storm than a plan. But for the first time, the chaos didn’t overwhelm me.
It energized me.
I scanned several sketches onto my laptop and opened the design software again. This time, I layered them carefully, spending hours researching online on how to create digital mockups. They were not polished, but clear enough to communicate function.
I rotated the modular necklace on screen, separating it into components, reassembling it again and again.
Dane would understand this.
My fingers typed on the keyboard as I titled the folder.
Adaptive Line — Concept Collection
And then I quickly grabbed my phone and shot a text to Dane telling him that the designs were ready.
I kept staring at the screen nervously, waiting for a reply. When that didn’t help, I started pacing through the room and finally, an hour later, my phone beeped.
It was a text from Dane.
\-Cool, hope to see you tomorrow at 11 am-
I read through the text three times and then rejoiced. Tomorrow, my dreams will come true. Tomorrow, my first step in the career of my choice will be taken.
I barely slept the entire night and the next morning ran around the house getting ready and eating breakfast like tiny springs were attached to my legs.
I called Dane’s office twice to confirm my appointment and was at the reception half an hour later.
“Hi, I am here for a meeting today with Dane Stratford”
“Ah yes, Miss Violet. I am afraid he got pulled in some last minute meeting with someone.”
And I feared this was Nate ruining my chance before I even got one.