Chapter 2
Violet's POV:
"I am serious, Daemon," I said. My voice was calm. It cut through the silence. "Five years is enough. You will never love me. Let’s stop pretending. Let’s give each other a way out."
I looked at him. My heart beat fast. It wasn't fear. It was determination.
I knew the future. I knew the timeline. In two weeks, the University would hold its big celebration. Daemon would go there. He would meet Celeste Morrison. He would look into her innocent blue eyes, and my world would burn.
I couldn't let that happen.
If I left now, I wouldn't be his enemy. I would just be his ex-wife. My parents would live. The Wildfire Pack would survive.
Daemon stopped typing. He closed his laptop. The sound was loud like a gunshot.
He stood up slowly.
"A way out?" He sneered. He walked around the table. He towered over me. "You used the elders to pressure me. You begged for this alliance. Now you sit on the Luna’s throne. And you want to play hard to get?"
"This isn't a game," I said. I forced myself to look at his red eyes. "This marriage is empty. It means nothing."
He moved fast. In a blur, he was right in front of me.
He trapped me in the chair. His hands gripped the armrests. His scent filled my nose.
"Is that it?" His voice was a low growl. It vibrated in my chest. He looked me up and down. His eyes were insulting. "Are you lonely, Violet? Is your bed too cold? Are you acting out because you want a man to touch you?"
In five years, he had never touched me.
Bile rose in my throat.
"Don't," I snapped. I pushed him back and stood up. My hands shook with anger. "Don't try to humiliate me."
I took a step back. I created space between us.
"Think about it, Daemon. The Frost Pack is powerful. You don't need my family anymore. My value is gone. You need a true mate."
For a second, his mask slipped. The mockery vanished. He looked cold. He looked confused. He looked at me like a stranger.
Then, the walls came back up.
"Stop this nonsense," He turned around. He grabbed his car keys from the table. "I have real problems to fix."
He stormed out the front door.
Seconds later, I heard his engine roar.
The house was empty. I went upstairs.
I didn't go to the master bedroom. I went to the guest room. I had slept there for three years.
I took off the silk dress. Daemon hadn't even noticed it. It fell to the floor. It was just a pile of expensive cloth. It was a symbol of the perfect doll I tried to be.
I opened the closet. I dug to the back. I found an old, dusty duffel bag.
Inside were my old clothes. Black cargo pants. A plain white t-shirt. Heavy combat boots.
I put them on. It felt like armor. I felt the ghost of the girl I used to be. I was the Alpha’s daughter. I used to run wild in the forest. That girl was waking up.
I went down to the garage. It was huge. It was filled with Daemon’s luxury cars. Ferraris. Bentleys.
I walked past them. I went to the far corner. A heavy canvas tarp covered something in the shadows.
I pulled the cover off. Dust danced in the light.
My custom BMW S1000RR was there. It was glossy black. It had red stripes like claw marks. It looked fast. It looked dangerous. It was not a bike for a Luna.
I touched the fuel tank. The metal was cold.
I grabbed the handlebars. I tried to lift it off the kickstand.
My knees buckled.
The bike was heavy. Heavier than I remembered. My arms shook. My muscles were weak from years of stress and sadness. I gasped. I gritted my teeth. I barely kept the bike from falling on me.
Weak, I thought. I felt ashamed. He made me weak.
No. I let myself become weak.
"Ember," I whispered. I called to my wolf. "Help me."
Silence answered me.
Deep inside, there was nothing. No stir. No heat. Ember did not answer. She had been suppressed for too long. The weight of Daemon's Alpha command had choked her into a deep sleep.
I was on my own.
I gritted my teeth. Anger replaced the magic. I refused to be weak. Not tonight.
I groaned and pulled with everything I had. My muscles screamed. I used pure, stubborn rage. Slowly, inch by inch, the bike came up. I swung my leg over the seat. I turned the key.
The Brewpub was loud. It smelled of beer and shifter pheromones.
I found my friends in a booth at the back.
Sienna Walsh was dancing in her seat. Her dark curls bounced. Jade Rivers sat straight. She scanned the room like a soldier. She was the Gamma of my old pack. Lily Price was writing in a notebook. She had a glass of wine.
I walked to the table. I held my helmet. The conversation stopped. They stared at me like a ghost.
"Vi?" Jade asked. Her eyes went wide. "You... you actually came. You never come out."
"I'm here," I said. I slid into the booth next to Sienna. I ordered a whiskey. No ice.
"What happened?" Lily asked gently. She closed her notebook. "Is it Daemon? Did he forget the anniversary again?"
I took the glass. I drank half of it in one gulp. It burned. I slammed the glass on the table.
"I'm leaving him," I said. "I'm dissolving the bond."
For three seconds, it was silent. Then, they exploded.
Sienna screamed. She threw her arms in the air. "Finally! Oh my Goddess, finally!"
Jade whistled. She slapped me on the back. "About damn time, Violet. I was ready to fight him myself."
"Are you sure?" Lily asked. Her eyes were wet. "You loved him so much."
"I loved a fantasy," I said. The alcohol warmed my chest. "The fantasy is dead. I want my life back."
We drank. We laughed. For the first time in years, I felt light. I wasn't the disappointed wife. I wasn't the failing Luna. I was just Violet.
The night went on. The alcohol made my vision blurry.
Sienna leaned over the table. Her face was flushed. She pointed a finger toward the bar.
"Okay, single lady," she slurred. "Daemon has his fun. You should too. Look at him. Three o'clock. Delicious."
I squinted.
A tall young man stood near the bar. He had broad shoulders. He had messy brown hair. He wore a university hoodie. He looked young. He looked happy. He looked simple.
A crazy idea hit me. Why not? Daemon was going to fall for a student. Why shouldn't I find one too?
"Watch this," I muttered.
I slid out of the booth. The floor tilted a little. I corrected my balance.
I walked over to him. He was tall. I reached out. I put a hand on his shoulder.
He turned around.
He had kind gray eyes. He had a nice face. He looked like a good guy.
"Hey," I said. I tried to smile. "You look like you need company."
The boy blinked. He looked surprised. He blushed. He stepped back. He gently took my hand off his shoulder.
"Uh, sorry, miss," he said. His voice was polite. "I have a girlfriend. I'm just waiting for takeout."
The rejection was polite. It was decent. It almost made me laugh.
"Right," I mumbled. "My mistake. Sorry."
I turned to walk away. Suddenly, the room spun.
The whiskey hit me all at once. The room tilted.
My boot caught on a chair leg. I pitched forward.
I squeezed my eyes shut. I waited for the hard floor. But the pain never came.
Strong hands grabbed my arms. They pulled me up easily.
I blinked, trying to clear the fog in my brain. It had to be the student.
"Thanks," I slurred. I felt heavy. "I'm just... a little dizzy."
I forced my head up to look at him. I wanted to smile.
But the lights in the bar smeared. The shadows stretched out like claws.
The boy's face rippled like water. The kind smile vanished. The soft gray eyes darkened. They began to glow.
Crimson. Blood red.
The face sharpened. It became cold. It became cruel.
Was he really here? Or was the alcohol playing tricks on me?