Page 20 of Violet

I breathe out heavily. “As I was saying, I saw you on the Lower Side, playing chicken with the cars before racing down an alley where there’s an establishment of ‘ill repute’—or so I’m told. Do you turn tricks on the side? Lead a double life as an ingénue lady of the night?”

“What?” She jumps up, eyes wild. “No! Mikel Petrov was there, giving a dance class, so I had to go. Please don’t tell anyone.”

“Why would anyone care?”

“I snuck out.” She hisses this like she committed murder. “And dressed like this!”

“I don’t see the problem.” She looked hot in the tight dance top before she put the hoodie on, and she still looks good. Athletic and dancer-sleek.

I’m kinda fascinated by her. Or maybe it’s just the power of her Omega scent in such a small space that’s making my head whirl.

“Why did you come here?” I ask. “Inside this boathouse?”

“I could ask the same of you,” she says, plucking at her sleeves. “But if you must know, I like it here because it’s always empty and I can be alone to…think.” She glances away, as if she just revealed something about herself she’d rather keep private. “People who fish come very, very early in the morning, so it’s…”

“Private.”

She’s using the same boathouse I used to visit when I lived here, to escape, to get away. But from what?

“You like the shadows, then? You don’t want to standout? You don’t seem to like being asked things, either, so how are you going to catch a mate?”

“I never said I wanted a mate.”

I scoff. “You’re an Omega.”

“And you’re an Alpha. Doyouwant a mate?”

Touché.

She groans. “I’m sorry. That was rude.”

“I thought it was actually funny,” I say with a laugh. “But you got me there. I definitely donotwant to find myself a mate. I enjoy my solitude too much.”

“And you can do that, as an Alpha. Omegas don’t have the same liberties.” Then she shakes her head and mumbles, “I’m starting to sound like my sister now.”

“Your sister?”

“Never mind.” She relaxes down into herself. “But yes, I’m one of those Omegas who’s participating in the Season tocatcha mate, I’m sorry to say. But the Season hasn’t started properly yet anyway. I’ve got time to lay traps.”

There’s surface acceptance, even the sound of excitement, but it’s cold behind that little façade. I know when someone else is acting—it’s my profession, after all. She doesn’t want to go out there and preen and be fussed over. She doesn’t want to be looked at and judged.

But she will.

For…reasons.

Because she’s trained to?

Has to?

I’m really fascinated now. This Omega is scared of the Season, but she’s doing everything she can to pretend she isn’t.

In that instant, I decide I’ll be going to the first ball after all. Pen will be pleased.

And the battle-ax, the Monarch, Sophine?

Fuck what she thinks.

The Omega’s bag starts to buzz, and she pulls out her phone. The light hits her face and highlights how pretty she is. Even with messy hair and her cheeks pinked from her dance workout, or maybe because of it, she might be the prettiest thing I’ve seen.

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