Chapter 25
Violet's POV:
Evan demanded my immediate presence at the Silver Springs Sanctuary, offering no explanation. I didn't argue with him; If Evan had called me, I expected an emergency.
I arrived at the sanctuary twenty minutes later. This was the Frost Pack’s most exclusive retreat, a place where high-ranking wolves soaked in thermal waters.
Sienna Walsh stood in the center of the private suite, her hands planted on her hips and her aura flaring with aggressive heat. She looked like a fury, her eyes blazing as she screamed at the two men cowering on the plush velvet sofa opposite her. Lucian Cross, usually the picture of Gamma arrogance, was practically trying to merge with the upholstery while hiding behind Felix Hunt.
"You have the audacity to send voice notes like that?" Sienna’s voice was a low growl that vibrated through the room. "He is a mated man! You are actively teaching him how to cheat on Violet with a college student?"
I closed the heavy oak door behind me, the thud finally drawing their attention. "Sienna? What is going on?"
Sienna spun around, her hair whipping around her face. "Violet! Thank the Goddess. Tell these absolute morons that coaching your mate on how to replace you isn't 'bro code,' it's a declaration of war."
Lucian peeked out from behind Felix’s shoulder, looking terrified. "Luna, please. It was... it was just a joke."
A cold knot tightened in my stomach as I realized the depth of the humiliation. Even while I was processing the physical aftermath of sleeping with my husband, his best friends were actively strategizing on how he could secure Celeste.
I kept my face impassive, masking the sting with the cool detachment I had perfected over five years.
"Sienna, leave them," I said, my voice steady as I walked over to place a hand on her shoulder. "They aren't worth the blood pressure spike. Besides, you know Lucian has the romantic intelligence of a garden gnome."
I steered a fuming Sienna away from the cowering men, guiding her toward the inner sanctum of the spa. "Come on. We’re getting massages. Deep tissue. And you two," I threw a look over my shoulder at the boys, "are paying for it."
An hour later, the air in the treatment room was thick with the scent of lavender and eucalyptus. We lay face down on side-by-side massage tables, the dim lighting doing its best to undo the tension in our muscles.
"I still can't believe them," Sienna mumbled into the face cradle. "Men like that think the world is their buffet. They take what they want and leave the rest of us to clean up the mess."
"You know what," Sienna turned her head to look at me. "You need a distraction. I’m serious, Vi. You’re tying yourself in knots over Daemon, and for what? He’s out there playing games."
"I'm not interested in games, Sienna."
"I'm not talking about games, I'm talking about balance," she said matter-of-factly. "You’re a beautiful, powerful woman in the prime of your life. If you can't divorce the block of ice yet, at least find a space heater. Find someone young, someone who looks at you with worship in his eyes, and just take what you need."
Her words hung in the humid air, settling into the cracks of my resolve. My mind drifted unbidden to Zane Carter. He was a Delta—low status, eager to please, and currently indebted to me. He wouldn't cause political waves, and he wouldn't demand my soul like a high-ranking wolf would.
"Maybe," I whispered, more to myself than to her.
Before Sienna could press for details, my phone buzzed on the small table beside me. It was a notification from our group chat where Lily Price had sent a flurry of emojis followed by a bold announcement. Bachelorette Party this weekend! My place, then a road trip to the coast.
A sense of relief washed over me so profound it was almost dizzying. A weekend away where I didn't have to walk the halls of the Blackwood manor, wondering if Daemon was coming home. It was the perfect excuse to let the physical marks he left on me fade and give him the space he clearly wanted.
"Lily's throwing a party," I said, showing the screen to Sienna. "And a trip."
Sienna grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Perfect. We are going to find you some fresh blood."
The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon when I finally exited the sanctuary. I was halfway to my bike when a figure stepped out from the shadows of a large oak tree, blocking my path.
Evan Thorne was dressed in casual dark clothes, his expression clinical and unyielding. He looked at me with sharp green eyes, analyzing me like a specimen under a microscope.
"Why did you send it?" he asked, his voice low and demanding.
I didn't need to ask what he meant. The photo. Daemon on his knees, looking at Celeste as if she were the only star in the sky.
I looked at Evan’s serious, uncomprehending face. God, you are slow, I thought. In the life I left behind, you fell for her too, Evan. You just don't know it yet.
I yanked my wrist free.
"Nothing," I said lightly. "Just thought I'd share what your best friend is up to."
I want you to watch, I added silently, studying his confused expression. I want you to witness every step of their great romance. I want you to see it happen.
Evan frowned, his brows knitting together in genuine confusion. "I don't understand you, Violet."
"You don't have to."
I straddled the bike and kicked the stand up. I ignited the engine, the roar drowning out the silence between us.
The following week was a blur of logistics as I threw myself into helping Lily plan her party. I micromanaged catering lists and decoration themes. Daemon hadn't returned for days. I told myself he was with her, wooing Celeste and breaking down her defenses just as Lucian had suggested.
On the evening before Lily’s party, I sat alone at the long mahogany dining table, picking at a salad. The house was quiet, the servants having retreated to their quarters hours ago.
Then, the front door opened.
The heavy footsteps were unmistakable as Daemon strode into the dining room. He brought with him a gust of cold night air and the scent of rain and exhaustion. He didn't smell like jasmine or vanilla; he smelled of old paper, ozone, and the metallic tang of long-distance travel. He looked ragged, his jaw shadowed with stubble and his eyes underscored by dark circles.
He hadn't been with Celeste; he had been working.
My heart gave a traitorous little jump, which I immediately ruthlessly crushed. He tossed his keys onto the sideboard and loosened his tie, his gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that pinned me to my chair.
"You're back," I said, stating the obvious. "I assumed you were... occupied."
"Border disputes in the north," he said, his voice raspy. "Father couldn't handle the negotiations."
He walked to the table, pulling out the chair at the head directly opposite me. He didn't sit immediately, instead leaning his hands on the table and looming over the wood.
"I saw the invitation from the Price family," he said, breaking the silence.
I didn't look up from my plate, keeping my tone casual. "Yes. Lily is celebrating her upcoming bonding ceremony. It’s going to be loud, chaotic, and full of people you find annoying."
"I cleared my schedule," he stated flatly.
I froze, my fork hovering halfway to my mouth. I looked up, genuine shock cracking my mask. "What?"
"The party. Tomorrow night. I'm going."
He’s coming?
The thought refused to compute. Lily had sent that invitation to his office purely out of protocol. She knew, just as everyone else did, that Daemon Blackwood and I lived in separate orbits. Our social circles never mixed. While everyone knew each other, his group of arrogant elites and my circle of friends were like oil and water—they barely tolerated being in the same room, let alone partying together. In my previous life, that invitation had gone straight into his shredder without a second glance.
"Why?" he asked, his voice cutting through my stunned silence. "Is there a problem?"
I realized I was staring at him, my fork suspended in mid-air.
"No," I lied, forcing my shoulders to relax. I stood up abruptly, abandoning my unfinished meal. "No problem at all. I'm full."
I turned and hurried toward the stairs, feeling his gaze burning into my back like a brand.