Page 93 of Violet

“Not sure. Embarrassed?” I shrug, getting a little fuzzy again. “Am I meant to feel different?”

“I don’t know, do you?”

I try to sit up, but my head spins. “Maybe. Where’s Iris?”

“Napping. My aunt Pen adores her. Iris has been your fierce defender,” he says.

I try and get up again. Slower this time. “I should go to her.”

“Stay there. You were in heat for four days,” he says. “Let her rest. Are you hungry?”

“Yes, but I can’t eat.” A restlessness comes over me. “What day is it?”

“Day five, and you’re not in danger of me taking your innocence like you were days one through three. Do you remember anything?”

I don’t know when my sex dream was, but it sounds like he brought me to orgasm yesterday. Am I going to be this messy every time? This much trouble?

“Last thing I remember was calling you my mate. I’m sorry.” I bury my head in my hands, but his soft chuckle offsets the tendrils of panic and mortification.

“That was yesterday,” he says. “The earlier days were bad. You were in and out, and Iris and Pen had to stop me coming in. I would have… I would have fucked things up.”

I swallow, throat dry even though I just took a sip of water. He puffs up the pillows so I have some height, and then, when I say I need the bathroom, he leads me to the little en suite.

The en suite’s kept in the dark, but tiny fairy lights give me enough light to see, and the flickering candle emits the scent of soft spice.

My gaze catches my reflection in the mirror. My curls from the dinner party have all spilled free from their pins and fall in a frizzy mess around my face. There are dark spots under my eyes and my skin is ghostly pale.

Dear god, Violet. You look a fright.

When I go back in, embarrassment creeps in that Stephan’s seen me like this—a mess.

“Iris is still sleeping, but I have fruit and crackers if you change your mind about eating.”

He leads me back to the nest, my legs wobbling. “I can do this myself.”

“Yeah?” Stephan says. “But you have me to help.”

Once I’m settled, he slides in next to me, on top of the covers, and of everything, his heat, his presence, his scent, those are the most important things in the room. My stomach still hurts and my skin shivers with flashes of heat, but Stephan makes it better.

There’s something I should say to him. Something I can’t. That I think I’m falling in love with him. He makes me feel breathless, boneless, and safe. He calms and excites in equal measure.

But there’s a deeper level, and I’m sinking down into it.

Maybe I’m naïve. I know I’d given up on the idea of mating for love a long time ago, but fate’s supposed to be a fickle mistress.

Is it possible she decided to drop love into my lap anyway?

CHAPTER

TWENTY-SIX

Stephan

“Stephan, can I ask you a question?”

I watch Violet closely. She just sits, perfectly still, drinking her water, and I pour myself some bourbon, put on some music, and run a hand through my hair as I sip. “Of course.”

“If you can’t have children, does that mean you won’t be able to…you know, help me with my heat next time?”

---