Page 75 of Violet

There’s an ache growing inside me. A restlessness that only seems to calm when I’m around him.

Stephan.

And since I’m not meant to have him, I need to ignore it and push on.

Some sister-girl time will help, so I’m thankful for Iris’s impromptu visit.

“If you tell anyone I still own these pajamas, I’ll destroyyou.” Iris pokes out her tongue. Then she puts the bottle and cookies down on the floor and climbs on the bed.

“I would never.”

She studies me. “Maybe if you broke the rules more you wouldn’t?—”

“Be so boring?”

“So tense.”

The scent of chocolate wafts around me, something I normally love, but I’m not sure I can eat it. “Thanks for coming today, by the way. And for giving us space to talk.”

She pushes a cookie into my hand. “Eh, Heath being there would’ve only made things worse. And it’s obvious you two have a lot going on.” She shrugs. “Eat. At least a bite.”

I nibble on one for her, and it’s good. “I don’t feel poisoned.”

“Rue made them for you. And for Stephan, apparently, because she thinks you should hurry up and get a mark.”

A shiver races through me. Should I tell Iris about the Monarch’s ultimatum?

“Is that what you want?” she asks. “Or is Dominic Stockton the one for you?”

“I don’t?—”

“It’s me, Vi. You can tell me the truth. Hell, if you don’t want either, we can come up with a plan B.”

“I’m not running off to join the circus or something.” A laugh bubbles up at that. But it fades as my stomach starts to roil.

“But seriously, Vi. This isyourlife here. No one else’s. You have to do whatyouwant. Not Mom. Not Heath. You.”

A groan breaks free, and a wave of heat hits. I flap my pajama top to get some air.

“This is a nice night… So…” Iris studies me. “Are you still wearing your blocker?”

I nod.

“Is your stomach feeling like it’s being ripped apart?”

“Aftermath of nerves. I nearly had a panic attack at the restaurant once the Monarch showed up.”

“Yeah, that was an unwanted surprise,” Iris says. “I was really enjoying the food. Were you able to talk to Stephan about what you wanted to talk to him about?”

I nod. “It just…didn’t solve anything. Didn’t make me feel any better.”

“You make it sound like you both are walking to your deaths or something,” she says. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”

My gaze slips away. “No.”

She unscrews the lid to the milk and hands it to me. “Drink.”

I splutter at the floral sharp burn of whatever’s in there. It’s not milk. But the heat burns a path down, and I take another big sip as she motions me to.

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