Page 41 of Violet

“Do you think Heath would have a fit if I stop by for a visit soon?” I ask.

“Why would he?” she says.

“He’s always kept his family life more…private.”

Her gaze flicks up to mine. “I’m sure he’d like to see you. You are his friend, after all.”

“To be frank, I’m already at my limit with him,” I say and touch the ribbon on her wrist. “What I’d really like is to stop in to see you again.”

Her full attention is on me now. Even as I twirl her and bring her back in, she stares at me. “You don’t have to pretend you want to. It’s okay.”

“I want to.”

Do I? I want to sayno, not really, but the longer the song goes on, the calmer she gets until her dancing is more fluid, languid, and her body is in perfect harmony with mine and the music. Her eyes are closed and she’s humming along, almost forgetting that I’m even here. Serene.

This is the true Violet. Just a taste of her. The one that intrigues me and I wouldn’t mind learning more about.

So maybe I will pop by the Gardener household tomorrow, see her again after tonight. Just for the hell of it.

And pissing off her big bad older brother? Well, that’s just a bonus.

My Hivemind, were you at the first masked ball?

Did you witness it all?

From A to V the Omegas came out in a variety of outfits. Some from the runways and red carpets of Emporia.

But one stood out—our Luxe, Miss Violet Gardener. She took a risk last night by wearing something vintage, and while some may have ridiculed her, her borrowed bronze ensemble was absolutely stunning on her.

She’s cat-sleek, shapely, and though her dress might have been decades out, the daring neckline and slit in the gown did their jobs and snagged herself the dish of the eve.

ASHER ST. JAMES

But will this budding romance turn into a nothingburger?

Or the match of the Season and a mating ceremony?

Time will tick, tock, and tell.

The tale’s starting to twist.

- Queen Bee

CHAPTER

THIRTEEN

Violet

Ihold up another dress, and Iris snatches it away.

“This is nothing but subjugation.” She throws it in a pile. “Wear the jeans, heels, and the pretty flowing top. It’s a good compromise.”

“I can’t. Mom doesn’t want me in jeans?—”

“The day after the ball should be casual, to show you’re not a painted wonder.” Then Iris pulls a face and sticks a finger in her mouth, mimicking gagging. “A new dress every day is ridiculous.”

Last night, Stephan invaded my dreams, his scent and touch, his kiss… I didn’t want to wake.

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