Page 88 of Violet

“They do. We learn about knots and heat and all that.”

“But not the details of it all,” I say. “Did they teach you in school about how painful heats are?Or that any unmated Alphas will be unable to control themselves if they get too close to you during one?”

Her expression turns scared. “What do you mean by not control themselves?”

“Remember what happened in the maze?”

She shivers. “With Mr. Stockton?”

“Yes.” A growl rises from the pit of my chest. “And me.”

This time a tremor runs through her for a different reason. I breathe in and instantly regret it. Her scent increases with her arousal. She’s extra sweet, and my vision clouds.

Fuck.

I have to shake my head to clear it. “Try not to think naughty thoughts, Princess. It makes things worse.”

“I’m sorry,” she mutters. “Why isn’t it affecting you, though?”

“Oh, it is. It has been for a while. It’s why I’ve had such a hard time keeping my fucking hands to myself. Your scent is everywhere.”

“But I’m wearing blocker. I’ve always worn it.”

“As I told the Monarch, for some reason I can still smell you.”

“And I can smell you.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure why, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep myself from rutting if we were together tomorrow, when you’re in full heat.”

She presses her thighs together—Iseeher do it—and I know I’m in trouble. We both are.

Mrs. Gardener pokes her head out the door again and waves us inside. “Okay, everyone’s gone. We have to get youup to your bedroom, Violet. There’s a lot of work to be done.”

Through the door, I hear Violet moan, and it’s like a call to a deep part of me that has nothing above the base needs, no reasoning, nothing. Her moan slices deep, pulls me to her. I’m having issues controlling myself, but I hang on to whatever threads of decency I have.

I’ve been in the hallway of the Gardeners’ house since the dinner last night. I helped gather the fluffiest blankets the family owned and grabbed every pillow I could find to help build Violet a nest in the center of her childhood bedroom. Her sisters brought in some of her favorite books, three heating pads, an entire case of water, and candles. I even helped Rue hang fairy lights after the light-blocking curtains were pulled shut, and once the room was dark, warm, and up to Mrs. Gardener’s standards, I was ushered out, along with every sister besides Iris.

While Heath, Mari, Dahlia, and Rue eventually went to bed or found other things to occupy their time, I’ve remained rooted to the spot, unable to leave.

And then, around two in the morning, the moans began, her agony vibrating through every fiber of my being.

It is my job to protect her.

The instinct overwhelms to the point I want to wreck this place, barricade us in her room, do anything and everything I can to ease the pain for Violet. If she didn’t smell so damn divine, I’d be able to concentrate.As it is, I want—need—to protect her, and I want—need—to devour her.

All I can think about is if I’d bitten her earlier, then we could’ve had the mating ceremony already, and her first heat would be at my home with me.

But no matter what my instincts urge, I can’t rut her. Especially during her heat.

I don’t know how I’m going to survive this. We can’t go our entire life without having sex.

“Changing your mind isn’t that much of a crime if you do it now.”

I turn and look at my aunt Pen climbing up the stairs slowly and with shaky legs. In one hand is a bottle of bourbon and in the other is two glasses. Her cane is tucked under her arm.

My savior.

I go over and help her up the last few steps before taking the bottle and glasses so she can steady herself. “What are you doing here? And so early in the morning?”

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