Ryker's POV
I couldn’t breathe. The tension was thick, suffocating. The words hung in the air, echoing in my mind like a constant drumbeat.
“Why didn’t you seek for Violet?” I asked, breaking the silence. My voice was raw, worn thin by the weight of everything I was trying to suppress.
Xaden’s gaze flickered to me, then away. “That’s none of our business,” he muttered, the words clipped, as if trying to dismiss everything I felt. “You’re safe. That’s the most important thing to us.”
I clenched my jaw, biting back the urge to lash out. Safe? That was nothing. It meant nothing without her. I could barely stand being in this place, breathing the air, and not having her beside me. I could feel the anger rising again, hot and fast.
“Safe?” I repeated, my voice growing louder, sharper. “Is that all you care about? My safety? You think I’m gonna sit here, pretending nothing happened? I want Violet back. And I’ll do whatever it takes to get her.”
Xaden’s expression hardened. “Ryker, I told you. You’re not going back. You’re not leaving this place.”
I could feel the frustration building in me, gnawing at my insides. “Then you send the damn guards to find her, Xaden. Now. Or I swear I’ll go back to the pack and find her myself.”
That caught him off guard. I could see the shift in his stance, his hands tightening at his sides. He moved in close, almost too close, his eyes flashing with anger.
“You think you can just waltz back to the pack like nothing happened?” he hissed, grabbing the fabric of my tunic, clutching it in his fists. “I lost plenty of guards to get you back here. I fought and bled to rescue you, and now you want me to send more of them out for some… some silly lady who means nothing to us?”
My heart thudded against my ribs, but I didn’t flinch. The words hit harder than any blow ever could. But they didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except her.
“She means everything to me,” I ground out, barely able to keep the growl from my voice. “And I don’t give a damn how many guards you lost. If you want to stop me, you’re going to have to kill me.”
I could see Xaden's anger crackle in his eyes, his breath coming in shallow gasps, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. “You’re crazy,” he spat. “You’re fucking crazy if you think I’ll let you risk everything, again, for nothing.”
Logan stepped in between us, his presence like a wall. His voice, though steady, carried the weight of authority. “Enough, both of you.”
I barely registered his words, too consumed by the rage that swirled in my chest. Xaden, though, took a step back, his fists slowly unclenching, but his eyes never leaving me.
The moment was thick with unspoken words. And then the door creaked open. The chief cook, smiling and unaware of the storm brewing between us, entered the room with her usual cheerful air.
“Dinner’s ready, boys,” she said, her voice light and kind. “Hope you’re hungry.”
It was like the world snapped back into place. My mind couldn’t hold onto anything else. I saw her—just a servant to them, nothing more. But she was there, in the middle of this mess, and I had no patience left. No patience for anything but getting her out of my sight.
I snapped. Before anyone could say anything, before I could think, I grabbed her by the arm, jerking her toward me. She barely had time to react before I shoved her, too roughly, too fast. She stumbled backward, hitting the stairs with a sickening crack, her body collapsing as her head slammed hard against the stone.
For a moment, the world was silent.
Logan and Xaden didn’t move right away. The air was thick, and everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. My pulse raced. Blood rushed in my ears, drowning out the sounds around me. The guards rushed in, and before I could even think, they were lifting the cook’s limp form, rushing her away to the hospital.
But I didn’t care. I couldn’t care. My mind was still fixed on her—Violet—and how I’d failed her.
Without a word, I turned and stormed upstairs, ignoring everything, everything except the rage and guilt clawing at me. I slammed the door behind me, the sound reverberating through the quiet hallway.
I paced the room, my thoughts tangled. The anger that had once consumed me now mixed with something darker—something heavier. I couldn’t focus on the room, couldn’t focus on anything except the pull to leave, to go after Violet. I grabbed the first bottle I could find, pouring a generous amount of vodka into a glass, the alcohol burning its way down my throat.
But it didn’t help. Nothing would.
The anger, the frustration, it all came back, boiling over again. The constant ache of her absence was too much. It had been too long. Too long since I last held her, too long since I last heard her laugh.
I heard footsteps outside my door—Xaden and Logan, probably—but I didn’t care. I wasn’t interested in whatever they had to say.
I stood up, barely even registering the slurred speech in my head as I moved towards the door. The faintest voices from downstairs filtered into the room. Xaden’s words, Logan’s plea, nothing more than noise.
When I opened the door, they were standing there, Xaden with his usual piercing stare, and Logan, as always, trying to play the peacemaker. But I couldn’t listen anymore.
“I’m going after her,” I said flatly, every word a promise I wasn’t going to break.
Xaden’s jaw tightened, his eyes darkening with renewed frustration. “Ryker, you’re not thinking clearly. We’ve been through this already. You can’t go back to the pack. You can’t—”
“I don’t care!” I shot back, stepping closer, forcing them to look me in the eye. “I don’t care about what you think. She’s out there. Alone. And I’m going to get her.”
“You’ll only make things worse,” Xaden snarled, stepping toward me again. “You can’t just storm off—”
“I said I’m going,” I interrupted, my voice cold, final. “And if you don’t help me, I’ll do it alone. I don’t need either of you to stop me.”
Logan stepped forward, his voice low but firm. “Ryker, don’t. You’ve already lost yourself once. Don’t do it again.”
But I wasn’t listening to him. I couldn’t.
“I’m not asking for your permission, Logan,” I spat, voice rising again. “I’m going after her. If you won’t send the guards to get her, I’ll do it myself.”
Logan’s hand shot out, grabbing my arm as I started to move past him. “This isn’t the answer, Ryker. Hurting people—” He stopped, his voice softer. “Hurting yourself, hurting anyone, isn’t going to bring her back.”
I wrenched my arm free, pushing past him, ignoring the frustration in his eyes, the concern in Xaden’s. “I don’t care. I’m going after her. Don’t follow me. Don’t try to stop me.”
I could feel their eyes on me as I walked down the hall. But there was no going back now. My mind was set. I wasn’t going to be stopped—not by them, not by anyone.
I reached the stairs, every step heavier than the last. My heart raced, and the anger had somehow deepened, twisted into something darker. I wasn’t going to let them stop me. Not now. Not when she needed me.
“Bring her back,” I whispered to the empty space around me, the words nothing more than a vow, a command.
Violet.
***********
I sat on my mattress, the vodka burning as it slid down my throat. The sharp sting of it gnawed at me, but it didn’t dull the ache in my chest. Nothing ever did. I took another sip, the glass cool in my hand, the liquid offering no comfort. My thoughts were a blur, a mix of rage, regret, and an overwhelming sense of helplessness. Violet was out there, and I had no idea how to help her.
I took another swallow, forcing my mind to numb, if only for a moment. But even the alcohol couldn’t drown out the gnawing guilt. The cook, her fall, her blood—that wasn’t supposed to happen. None of this was supposed to happen.
The silence in the room was deafening, and I barely noticed the minutes ticking by. It was like I was trapped in this void, caught between what I wanted and what I was being forced to do.
Then, without warning, the door to my room swung open. I didn’t flinch, didn’t even look up. But the sound of it crashing against the wall snapped me back to reality.
Logan stood in the doorway, his face unreadable but his eyes burning with determination. He didn’t say anything at first, just stood there, watching me like he was trying to figure out whether I’d finally lost it or if I still had a shred of control left.
“What do you want, Logan?” I asked, my voice hoarse, raw from the emotions I didn’t want to feel.
He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click. He didn’t sit, didn’t move toward me. He just stood, his arms crossed, his gaze never wavering.
“You’re not making any sense,” Logan said quietly, his tone firm but not unkind. “You can’t just leave, Ryker. You’re not thinking straight. I know you’re angry, but you’re gonna end up making things worse.”
I stared at him, the silence between us thick and suffocating. I wanted to scream at him, to tell him he didn’t understand. But deep down, I knew he was right. Nothing made sense anymore.
I shook my head, rising to my feet and pacing the room. “Do you really think I care about what’s logical? Do you think I give a damn about what’s ‘right’? She’s out there. All alone. And I—”
“You’re not alone,” Logan interrupted, his tone softer this time, almost begging. He stepped closer, just enough to bridge the distance between us, but not too close. He wasn’t pushing me, but his presence was firm, steady, like a lifeline I was reluctant to grasp.
“I can’t do this, Logan,” I murmured, my voice barely audible. “I can’t just sit here and act like everything’s fine when she’s out there. When she’s—”
Logan interrupted me again, positioning himself in front of me and placing a steady hand on my shoulder. His grip was gentle, yet it carried a weight, as if he was trying to anchor me, to pull me back from the brink. “I’ll help you,” he said, his voice unwavering. “But you have to promise to stay here. I’ll call the guards. I’ll send them to search for her. I’ll do whatever it takes, but you need to stay put.”
I stopped in my tracks, my heart racing. “You’ll really help me? You’ll send the guards to look for her?”