Chapter 44
Violet's POV:
The man stood in front of me, waiting for my answer. Dylan Hayes, from Crimson Peak Pack, he'd said.
"A drink?" I repeated, my brain still processing.
Behind me, chairs scraped. Sienna, Lily, and Jade appeared at my shoulders.
"Oh my God, go!" Sienna whispered, pushing my elbow. "When was the last time a hot guy bought you a drink?"
"She's right," Lily added. "One drink, twenty minutes, we'll be right here."
Jade caught my eye and nodded slightly. Permission. Support.
I looked back at Dylan. He was still waiting. Not pressuring, just waiting.
"Okay," I heard myself say. "One drink."
His smile widened. "I promise to make it interesting. Though I tend to talk about trade policy when I'm nervous."
"Investment analyst?" I said.
"Smart." He looked pleased. He gestured toward a quieter corner. "Would that spot work? Your friends can keep watch."
I followed him to the bar stools. Behind me, Sienna stage-whispered, "Get it, girl!"
The bartender appeared. Dylan ordered bourbon, then turned to me.
"Whiskey sour," I said. "Double."
His eyebrow rose slightly, but he didn't comment. "Rough day?"
"Rough several years." The words slipped out before I could stop them. "Sorry, that was—"
"Honest?" he finished gently. "I like honesty. It's rare in our world."
Our drinks arrived. I wrapped my hands around the glass.
"Are you here alone?" Dylan asked, then quickly corrected himself. "I mean, is there someone who might not like me buying you a drink?"
The question was careful. Respectful. Giving me room without demanding details.
The truth was complicated. I was marked. Legally bound. But Daemon was hundreds of miles north, probably finding excuses to touch Celeste's hand. And I was tired of being the only one who pretended our bond still meant something.
"What do you think?" I said, meeting his eyes.
Something shifted in his expression. "I hope the answer is no. Because anyone who has you and isn't treating you like the most important person in their world is an idiot."
"That's bold to say to someone whose name you don't even know," I managed.
"Then tell me your name."
"Violet." Not Luna Blackwood. Just me.
"Violet," he repeated. "Beautiful. It suits you."
We talked after that. Easy conversation about things I liked, not things I was useful for. When I mentioned extreme sports, he leaned forward with genuine interest.
"You're not drinking," Dylan observed.
I looked down, surprised. I'd forgotten the whiskey. "I got distracted."
"Good distracted or boring distracted?"
"Surprisingly good," I admitted, then took a long swallow. "I should get back to my friends."
"Of course." Disappointment flickered across his face. "But before you go—" He pulled out his phone. "Would it be completely presumptuous to ask for your number? I'd really like to see you again. Even just as friends."
I should have said no.
"Okay," I heard myself say.
Dylan's whole face lit up. I recited my number, then added, "But fair warning—my life is complicated. Messy."
"Everyone's life is messy," he said simply. "I can decide what I'm willing to risk."
We crossed the bar together. When we reached my table, Sienna was grinning.
"Ladies," Dylan said, then turned to me. "Thank you for the conversation, Violet."
"Thank you for the drink."
"You know what?" Jade said suddenly, checking her phone. "It's getting late. We should probably head out before it gets too cold."
"Already?" Sienna looked disappointed. "We just—"
"Some of us have early meetings tomorrow," Jade said pointedly, giving Sienna a look I couldn't quite read. "Come on."
"If you need a ride, Violet, I'm heading toward Riverside District anyway," Dylan said.
Sienna's eyes narrowed. "If anything happens to her, you'll have three angry women and a pack hunting you down."
Dylan raised his hands, smiling. "Understood. Precious cargo."
Dylan's car smelled like coffee and leather. He chose instrumental music. As we drove, I sent Sienna his plate number.
"Long day?" Dylan asked quietly.
"Long year," I said. "Long several years."
"Can I ask you something?" Dylan said.
"Go ahead."
"The person who's failing to choose you. Do they know they're losing something important?"
Not whether Daemon cared, but whether he even realized.
"I don't think they ever saw it as important," I heard myself say. "I was always just a placeholder. Someone convenient until something better came along."
Dylan's hands tightened on the wheel. "Then they're an idiot. You deserve better."
"You don't even know me."
"Anyone who makes you feel like a placeholder is the problem, not you."
We were getting close to Blackwood territory. This bubble was about to pop.
"Turn here," I said quietly.
But as we pulled up to the gates, I saw his expression shift. Recognition as he took in the massive estate.
"Violet—"
"Thank you for the ride," I said quickly. "It was really nice."
"Wait—" He put the car in park. "I don't care if you live in a palace. I don't care about pack politics. I haven't had a conversation that genuine in forever. I meant what I said about wanting to see you again. Would that be okay?"
"Maybe," I said finally. "Let me think about it?"
"Better than a no."
I climbed out. He waited until I'd entered the gate code before driving away.
I stood in the cold, staring at the empty driveway.
"Why do strangers treat me better than my own husband?" I whispered.
I pulled out my phone to text Sienna that I was home safely, then paused. A notification showed a bank transfer—two thousand dollars from Zane. Again. I stared at the screen, then scrolled down to see his message.
Hey Violet. I know it's late, but there's this stray dog near campus, hurt and scared. I was going to help him tomorrow but I'm worried I'll make it worse. Would you maybe want to come with me?
The request felt calculated. This was exactly the kind of thing I used to do—find excuses to be near Daemon.
Tomorrow afternoon? 2pm at Riverside Park?
His response was immediate: Thank you, Violet. You're always so kind to me.
I sent the promised text to Sienna, then made my way into the house. Shadow's excited greeting echoed through the empty foyer.
---
The next afternoon, Riverside Park was crisp and clear. Shadow sat on my padded arm.
I spotted Zane kneeling beside a bench, murmuring softly. As I got closer, I saw the yellow dog. Ribs showing. One back leg bent awkwardly.
"Hey," I called softly.
He turned, face lighting up. "Violet! You came!" He stared at Shadow. "Is he safe around dogs?"
"As long as the dog doesn't attack me." Shadow mantled his wings. The dog flattened its ears and whined. "Easy. We're here to help."
I knelt carefully, extending my free hand. Moving slowly.
"You're good at this," Zane said.
"Growing up, we had lots of animals on pack lands," I said. "Trust is earned, not demanded."
Shadow clicked his beak softly. Then made a low, soothing sound. The dog's tail gave a tiny wag.
We worked together. Zane had come prepared. First aid kit, water, dog food.
The dog let us clean the leg. When I produced treats, Zane fed them carefully. Something shifted in his expression. Pride. Joy.
"What do we do now?" he asked.
"Animal rescue, fifteen minutes from here."
"We?" Zane looked at me. "You'd help find him a home?"
"Why not? Everyone deserves someone who chooses them. Even stray dogs with trust issues."
The words hung heavy. Zane's expression shifted. More knowing. More sympathetic.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "Everyone deserves that."
We got the dog to the rescue center. As we walked back out, I felt something ease.
"Thank you," Zane said. "For showing up."
"That's what decent people do."
"I don't think you realize how rare that is."
"Want to sit for a bit?" I suggested.
We settled onto a bench. Shadow stretched his wings.
"Can I ask you something?" Zane said finally.
"You can ask."
"Do you ever wonder if love is supposed to be this hard? What if the person you're supposed to love doesn't feel the same? No matter how hard you try?"
I looked at him. Saw the raw pain. He was asking about Celeste. But also asking my question.
"Maybe the real question is whether the person is worth the difficulty," I said slowly. "There's a difference between normal challenges and soul-destroying work of trying to make someone care who's decided they don't want to."
"How do you know which it is?"
"Whether the other person is trying too. Whether they meet you halfway."
"And if they're not?"
"Then maybe you're finally putting your energy somewhere it might actually matter."
"Lately it's like I'm just—"
"A placeholder," I finished quietly. "I know how that feels."
He looked at me. Making the connection.
My phone buzzed. Daemon's name.
Zane saw my expression change and started to stand. "You should get that. I should head back anyway—"
"Wait," I said, catching his arm. "Could you grab us some hot drinks? There's a coffee cart by the entrance. My treat."
"Sure. What do you want?"
"Anything hot. Surprise me."
As soon as he was out of earshot, I answered the call.
"Where are you?" Daemon's voice was cold. Clipped.
"Riverside Park," I said, keeping my voice level. "Why?"
"With who?"