Chapter 90
Violet's POV:
The sun hung high over Moonbeam Café as I pushed through the weathered wooden door. This place sat on the edge of Wildfire Pack land, neutral enough for meetings but unmistakably claimed. The lunch crowd was sparse—a group of warriors nursing espressos at the corner table, their conversation dropping to cautious murmurs as they noticed Zane trailing behind me.
Zane's discomfort manifested in the rigid set of his shoulders, the way his eyes skittered away from the other wolves as if eye contact might trigger a challenge. His fingers drummed against his thigh nervously as we claimed a booth near the back.
"Relax," I said softly as we slid into the worn leather seats. "They're not going to hurt you. You're with me."
He nodded, though his hands remained tense on the laminated menu. When the server approached, Zane's order came out hesitant, almost apologetic. I ordered with deliberate ease, watching him absorb the casual authority that came with being Alpha-born.
"So, how's the internship treating you?" I began once our drinks arrived, wrapping my hands around the warm mug. "Getting along with everyone at the firm?"
"It's good," Zane said quickly, too quickly. "Everyone's been really helpful. Mr. Hunt especially—" He caught himself mid-ramble, color rising in his cheeks. "Sorry. You probably don't want to hear all the boring details."
"I asked, didn't I?" I smiled, then paused deliberately. "Actually, I've been meaning to ask you about something else. Celeste went abroad to Silver Ridge recently. Did you know about that?"
The question landed like a stone. Zane's throat worked as he swallowed, his gaze dropping to the scratched tabletop. "I... yeah. I heard from some friends. But we don't really keep in touch anymore."
"Mmm." I set down my mug with deliberate care. "That's interesting. Because from what I understand, Daemon's the one paying for her to be there. Covering everything—tuition, living expenses, all of it."
Zane's fingers clenched around his water glass, knuckles going white. He said nothing, but his silence was confirmation enough.
I leaned forward slightly, lowering my voice. "What's more interesting is that it apparently wasn't Daemon who initiated contact. It was the other way around." I let that hang between us for three deliberate heartbeats. "You know about that, don't you, Zane?"
His eyes snapped up to meet mine, and I saw it all there—the knowledge he'd been carrying, the betrayal that had shattered him, the loyalty that had kept him silent even as it corroded him from within.
"Zane?" I prompted gently, though there was steel beneath the velvet. "I need you to tell me the truth. Did Celeste contact Daemon first?"
He closed his eyes briefly, surrendering to the inevitable. When he opened them again, resignation had replaced the defensive tension. "Yes," he said quietly. "I know. I saw the messages she sent him."
The confirmation settled over me like frost, chilling and clarifying at once. Not a predatory Alpha pursuing an innocent Omega, but a deliberate choice by someone who'd presented herself as guileless and pure.
"That's what broke you apart, wasn't it?" I asked. "Finding out she'd reached out to an already-bonded Alpha."
Zane's laugh was bitter. "She had so many admirers. I thought I could handle it. But Daemon was different—an Alpha from one of the most powerful packs, bonded to someone else, and she still—" He broke off, jaw clenching.
"What did she say when you confronted her?"
He drew a shaky breath. "I asked her why she would do that. Why she'd reach out to someone who was bonded, who clearly had intentions." His voice had gone hollow. "She told me—she said, 'My wolf Aria told me that Onyx was her fated Alpha. The wolf's desire can't be disobeyed, Zane. I had no choice.'"
The words hit me like a physical blow, reordering my entire understanding. In my previous life, I'd believed Daemon had pursued her, that his obsession had destroyed our marriage. He'd worn that label—seducer, homewrecker—without protest, protecting Celeste's reputation while letting himself be villainized.
But if she'd been the one to reach out first, if she'd actively pursued the mate bond connection, then everything I'd thought I knew was a carefully constructed lie.
"That's such bullshit," I said flatly. "The wolf's instincts can be powerful, yes. But we're not animals. We have human reasoning, human choice."
"That's what I thought too," Zane said quietly. "But she made me feel like I was being controlling, like I didn't understand." His voice dropped lower. "Maybe I didn't."
"Maybe," I conceded, though privately I thought it was convenient how this supposedly irresistible bond had manifested only after she'd deliberately sought Daemon out. "But even if the bond was real, the way she handled it was a choice. Thank you for telling me. I know that couldn't have been easy."
He managed a weak smile. "Actually, it kind of was. I've wanted to tell someone for so long."
Our food arrived then, breaking the intensity. We ate in relative silence, the conversation shifting to safer topics. By the time we finished, Zane seemed more relaxed, that puppy-dog eagerness returning as we walked to the parking lot.
"Violet," Zane said as we reached my car, his voice suddenly urgent. "I just—I wanted to say thank you. For everything you've done for me." He took a deep breath, then suddenly stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me in an awkward but genuine embrace. "Have a safe trip back to Silver Ridge. I hope everything works out for you."
I stood frozen for a moment, then slowly returned the hug, patting his back with distant fondness. "I'll miss you, Violet," he mumbled into my shoulder.
He pulled back abruptly, cheeks flushed, refusing to meet my eyes as he practically fled to his beat-up sedan. I watched him drive away and felt something twist uncomfortably in my chest. He was so young, so earnest in his devotion to people who'd hurt him. I hoped the world wouldn't crush that openness entirely, though I suspected it was inevitable.
---
The next morning, I was barely through the doors of my office when Linda appeared, her face blotchy with tears and rage. The open-plan office fell silent as heads swiveled toward the commotion.
"Violet, you're so vicious!" Linda's voice cracked, pitched loud enough to carry across the entire floor. Her finger stabbed toward me. "Are you satisfied now?!"
I froze mid-step, exhaustion from the flight and morning sickness making my reflexes slower than usual. "Linda, what—"
"Celeste collapsed because of your provocation! She has a severe congenital heart condition! She's in the ICU at Silver Ridge Clinic right now, hanging by a thread! Don't you need to take responsibility?!"
The words punched through my confusion like a fist. Celeste—in the hospital—heart condition—ICU. My mind immediately flashed to Sienna's speculation about pregnancy, but this was something else entirely.
"What heart condition?" I heard myself ask, voice flat and controlled. "Explain clearly."
Linda's face contorted with fresh fury. "She has congenital heart disease. It's very serious. She can't handle any stress, any emotional shock. And you kept provoking her—" Her voice rose to a near-shriek. "You're basically a murderer!"
"I never knew she had a heart condition," I said, forcing my tone to remain level. "And I didn't deliberately provoke her. If anyone's to blame, it's her constant need to insert herself into my life—"
"Violet, are you even human?" Linda cut me off, tears streaming down her cheeks. "How can you be so cold-blooded? You're evil!"
She lunged forward, and despite my height advantage, Linda was taller, more solid. She grabbed my shoulder and shoved hard enough to send me careening into the edge of someone's desk.
"Linda!" Aiden's voice cracked like a whip across the office, and suddenly he was there, his body a wall between us, one hand gripping Linda's wrist. "This is working hours. What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Mr. Goldcrest," Linda panted, "your cousin caused Celeste's heart attack! Shouldn't she be held accountable?!"
Aiden's expression went cold, authority radiating from every line of his body. "Wasn't it Celeste who ruined Violet's marriage first?"
Linda's face went sheet-white, then flooded with color. Her chest heaved with rapid breaths, clearly unable to process that he would defend me over Celeste. Then she reached up and yanked her employee badge from around her neck. "I quit," she said, voice shaking. She threw the badge at Aiden's feet. "I can't work for someone who protects people like her."
She stormed toward the elevators, heels clicking out fury. The office remained frozen until Aiden called out, "Show's over. Everyone back to work." Then, more quietly to me: "My office. Now."
I followed him numbly, aware of whispers starting up behind us. In his office, he gestured me into a chair and poured two glasses of water.
"Aiden, I'm sorry," I said as he handed me a glass. "If I'd known she'd react that way—"
"Linda was out of line," Aiden cut me off. "Physical altercations during work hours are absolutely not acceptable." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Though I have to ask—did you know about Celeste's condition?"
"No. I had no idea."
"Are you really going to let Linda resign?"
Aiden shook his head slowly. "No. I'll talk to her once she's calmed down. But Violet, you need to be more careful about workplace relationships, okay?"
"I understand," I said, though privately I thought it was rich that I was being warned when I hadn't asked for any of this drama.
"Go home for the rest of the day. Get some rest. I'll handle the office gossip."
I didn't argue, just collected my things and made my way out. By the time I reached my car, my hands were trembling badly.
Celeste had a heart condition. Serious enough to require ICU care. And Daemon was arranging for her treatment, essentially tying himself to her through a debt that made my own claims seem pathetically insignificant.
I was so lost in thought that I almost didn't notice Evan's car until I saw him leaning against it, arms crossed.
"Why are you here?" I asked as I climbed out.
He pushed off from the car. "Do you know about Celeste's heart condition?"
"I just found out. Linda confronted me at work."
"Come on. Let's go upstairs. I know the full story, and you need to hear it."
The elevator ride was silent. When we passed Daemon's apartment, I felt an irrational spike of something that might have been disappointment or relief. Kael's door opened just as I was unlocking mine, and he emerged with trash, his eyes widening when he saw Evan.
"Evan," he said slowly. "You and Violet..."
"I need to discuss something important with her," Evan said, tone leaving no room for speculation.
I gave Kael a brief nod, then opened my door and gestured Evan inside.
"Sit," Evan said, and I obeyed, sinking onto the couch while he remained standing.
"Celeste is currently at the hospital where one of my colleagues works," he began. "He's a cardiothoracic surgeon, and he mentioned her case to me. She has severe congenital heart disease, Violet. She needs a heart transplant, and the situation is extremely complicated."
The words pressed down on my chest. Heart transplant. The kind of catastrophic failure that required someone else to die so she could live.
"How severe?" I heard myself ask.
"Critical enough that once she stabilizes, Daemon is arranging for her to be transferred to Northern Summit Pack territory." Evan's clinical detachment cracked slightly. "She's waiting for a human heart donation, or possibly an artificial heart implant. Either way, it's complex, expensive, dangerous. And the stress could have genuinely pushed her into cardiac failure."
I stared at him, struggling to process the implications. Celeste was dying. Had been dying all along. And Daemon was now promising to save her life.
"So his 'hardship' was this?" My voice came out brittle. "The reason he protected her—it was because she might die?"
"A heart condition doesn't excuse manipulation," Evan said carefully. "It's possible to be both genuinely ill and genuinely calculating."
"She pursued him first," I said flatly. "Zane confirmed it yesterday. And Daemon let himself be villainized to protect her."
Evan's expression flickered. "That's consistent with what I've observed. Daemon has always been protective of people he perceives as needing rescue. It doesn't mean he loves her. It might just mean he can't stand being responsible for someone's death."
The distinction felt meaningless. Love, guilt, protective instinct—what did it matter when the end result bound him to her forever?
My head swam suddenly, the room tilting sideways as exhaustion and stress crashed over me. I'd been on my feet since before dawn, had barely kept down breakfast, had weathered Linda's attack and this conversation and the relentless emotional whiplash.
"Violet?" Evan's voice came from very far away. "Are you okay?"
I tried to answer, but my tongue felt thick. My vision narrowed to a tunnel of darkness rimmed with sparks of light.
The last thing I registered was Evan's hands catching me as I pitched forward, his alarmed shout muffled by the roaring in my ears.
Then everything went black.