Chapter 42
Violet's POV:
The morning light filtered through frost-etched windows. I stood on the bedroom balcony watching snow fall in thick sheets that had been accumulating since before dawn. The driveway had vanished beneath at least eight inches of powder.
Any rational person would cancel outdoor plans in weather like this.
Three sharp knocks hit the bedroom door. "Ten minutes. We're leaving."
I stared at the closed door, my coffee mug suspended halfway to my lips. He was actually going through with it.
"He said yes," Ember whispered cautiously. "Maybe he still cares a little?"
"Don't," I cut her off, setting down the mug hard enough to slosh coffee over the rim. "Don't do that to us."
But I was already moving toward the closet, reaching for professional ski gear I'd bought years ago. The thermal underlayers went on first, then waterproof pants, then the fitted purple jacket. I braided my hair with quick movements and laced up my boots.
The drive to Whiteridge stretched out in oppressive silence. Daemon sat rigid behind the wheel, his crimson eyes fixed on the barely visible road.
When we pulled into Whiteridge's parking lot, I didn't wait for him to open my door. I grabbed my gear and headed straight for the lodge to collect rental skis.
I got my equipment sorted and headed straight for the advanced runs without looking back. The first run down the steep slope was exactly what I needed. The moment my skis found their rhythm, something locked into place inside me.
I was good at this. Really good. I'd been competing in amateur races before I met Daemon, had trophies gathering dust at my parents' house. Ember was howling with pure joy, and I let myself grin like an idiot as I flew down the mountain.
When I reached the bottom, I caught sight of Daemon making his way down the same run. His technique was adequate but stiff, his turns too wide and cautious. He was used to being naturally good at everything and clearly resented having to work at this.
Watching him struggle sparked something petty in my chest. Before I could talk myself out of it, I was already planning my next run.
The second time down, I deliberately passed close to where Daemon was descending. I built up speed, then carved a sharp turn that sent a massive spray of snow directly into his face and chest. I heard his startled curse and saw him stumble slightly.
When I glanced back, his blood-red eyes locked onto mine and narrowed into slits. I raised one eyebrow in deliberate challenge, then turned and finished my run.
The third time I did it, I added a laugh. The fourth time, I came even closer. The fifth time, I executed a sharp cutback that forced him to stop entirely, and I flashed him a bright smile as I sailed past.
I was lining up for my sixth pass when I registered movement that was far too fast. He was accelerating—not smoothly, just pure Alpha strength forcing his body faster than his skill allowed—and suddenly he was right there.
His arm locked around my waist from behind with enough force to knock the air from my lungs. He lifted me off my skis and over his shoulder in one brutal motion.
"Daemon Blackwood, put me down right now!" I shouted, pounding my fists against his back. "We're on skis! We're going to crash and—"
"Then stop moving," he growled.
He kept skiing somehow, and I was torn between fear that we'd wipe out and fury that he'd manhandled me in public like a misbehaving child.
"Fine," I spat, going deliberately limp. "Just let me fall. Let me break my neck. Then you can finally be free to mark Celeste without any messy complications."
He stumbled slightly, then suddenly I was being set down with enough force that my knees buckled. His hands steadied me automatically, then released me like I'd burned him.
We stood in tense silence. Finally, Daemon turned away without a word and headed for the lodge, and I was left standing alone trying to figure out what had just happened.
---
After lunch, my phone buzzed. Evan's name appeared and I answered immediately.
"Violet," he said without preamble. "I need your help. Can you come by my apartment? I need someone to take care of Shadow while I'm away. Two weeks. Medical conference in the Northern Territory."
He paused. "Violet, there's something you should—"
"Celeste is going to be there," I finished, my voice flat.
"Ecology summit," Evan confirmed quietly. "And Daemon registered as an observer. He claimed it was business research, but—"
"But that's bullshit," I cut him off. "He's going because she'll be there."
"I'll take Shadow," I said abruptly. "Text me your address. I'll be there in an hour."
Evan's apartment was on the third floor, surprisingly nice with exposed brick walls and large windows. When he opened the door, I could see why he'd earned his reputation as the pack's most eligible bachelor—the space was impeccably maintained with warm colors and actual artwork.
But what immediately drew my attention was the massive bird perched on a stand near the window. Shadow was a Harris's hawk, all sleek brown feathers and piercing amber eyes, watching me with the kind of intelligent focus that suggested he was taking my measure.
"He's beautiful," I said, approaching slowly with one hand extended.
"He's temperamental," Evan corrected, but there was obvious affection in his voice. "Only tolerates a few people. If he doesn't like you, this isn't going to work."
Shadow cocked his head, studying me for a long moment, then stepped delicately onto my offered forearm when Evan brought over the leather gauntlet. His talons gripped firmly but not painfully, and when I raised my arm slightly he mantled his wings in a brief display before settling.
"Well," Evan said with obvious surprise. "That's a first. Usually takes him days to warm up to anyone."
For the next twenty minutes, Evan walked me through Shadow's care with the kind of obsessive detail that would have been annoying if it wasn't so clearly coming from a place of genuine love. Feeding schedule, preferred perches, flight training routine, how to read his body language when he was stressed versus content.
"And if he gets aggressive—"
"I'll manage," I interrupted. "Evan, I've handled plenty of difficult creatures. Including Daemon."
He didn't smile at the joke. Instead, his expression turned serious as he handed me the falconry glove. "Daemon and Celeste will both be in the same city for two weeks. You understand what that means?"
"That he'll finally have the chance to pursue what he actually wants without me inconveniently nearby?" The words came out more bitter than I'd intended.
"Violet—"
"I'm fine," I cut him off, focusing on Shadow rather than meeting Evan's concerned gaze. "I appreciate the warning, but I already knew this was coming. In some ways, it's better this way. Let him chase her without restraint. Let him realize what he's been missing. Maybe it'll finally push him to actually end this properly instead of keeping me in limbo."
Shadow rode on my shoulder during the drive home, his talons gripping the reinforced pad I'd clipped to my jacket. He was silent but alert, those amber eyes tracking every passing car and streetlight. When we pulled through the estate gates, he made a low chirping sound that might have been approval or just commentary.
I carried Shadow up to my room and set up the portable perch Evan had provided.
I scrolled through social media without really seeing it, just needing something to do with my hands. Then Celeste's latest post appeared on my feed.
It was a photo of a delicate hand reaching toward a snowy sky, flakes caught mid-fall against pale skin. The caption was a song lyric: "You don't even know what you do to me..."
I recognized it immediately—Allen Stone's "Unaware." A love song about being completely captivated by someone who didn't realize their effect.
She was posting this for Daemon. She had to be. And the fact that she was already at this point, already falling, already broadcasting her feelings in these carefully curated hints—it was earlier than last time. In my previous life, she hadn't shown interest until spring. Now it was barely winter.
"Is it because of me?" I whispered to the empty room. "Because I'm interfering, changing things, is everything accelerating?"
My phone buzzed with a video call from Evan. I answered to find him looking harried and slightly manic.
"Did you set up the perch correctly? Is he eating? Did you check the water dish? You need to make sure—"
"Evan," I interrupted. "Shadow is fine. The perch is stable. The water is fresh. Stop being an anxious parent."
"I'm not anxious, I'm thorough," he protested, but I could see the corner of his mouth twitching. "If you don't take proper care of him, I swear I'll release him in your bedroom."
"If you keep micromanaging me, I'll release him now just to spite you," I shot back, but there was no heat in it.
We fell into easier banter for a few minutes before his expression turned serious again.
"Violet, if you ever realize that the person you've been trying so hard to understand actually isn't worth the effort—"
"What would I do?" I asked quietly.
He was silent for several seconds. "You'd be free."
After we hung up, I lay in the enormous bed staring at the crystal chandelier overhead. Daemon hadn't come home. I thought about this morning's skiing, the snow wolf on the lawn, the empty house, and felt a deep confusion settling over me like the snow still falling outside.
The next morning—or rather, afternoon—I finally dragged myself out of bed past noon, having tossed and turned until nearly dawn before exhaustion finally claimed me.
I was finishing changing into jeans and a sweater when my phone erupted with Sienna's unmistakable volume.
"Violet! My dad went crazy again! You gotta help me!"