Page 71 of Violet

I’ve wondered why I seem to be the only Alpha who’s being so affected by her heat cues, but my guess is that it has something to do with the fact that I can smell her, even with the blockers on. And, as she confessed to Sophine, she can smell me too.

I’ve never heard of something like this happening before.

Dahlia plays a somber song on the piano, while Mari doodles in her sketchbook on the couch across from the fireplace. Next to her, Rue scrolls on her phone mindlessly while taking bites of a cookie.

The only ones missing from this family reunion are Iris and Violet.

The doorbell rings, and Rue’s up and racing off to answer it before anyone else can. A moment later, she comes in with the biggest bouquet of delicate purple and white flowers—lavender, roses, carnations, snapdragons—and my blood goes cold.

The piano stops as Dahlia turns to look. Even Mari glances up from her sketchbook.

“O.M.G., they’re for Violet!” Rue squeals, reading the little note on the wrapping.

“Oh, they’re gorgeous, Stephan,” Mrs. Gardener says.

Something shrivels within me.

I clear my throat. “They’re not from?—”

“From someone called Dominic.” Rue glances at me. “Who’s that?”

Heath’s grin is slow and toothy. “It’s a very nice Alpha who’s interested in Violet. He met her at the Hargrave party and has been hounding me to schedule a date with her.”

Fucking asshole.

Stockton’s a wet paper bag. And Heath’s an asshole.

Rue drops the princess’s flowers on top of the piano, much to Dahlia’s dismay.

“Oh, and there’s this.” Iris walks in with Quinn. They’re both struggling to hold a basket filled with violets, wine, and assorted crackers and cheeses. “That Dominic fellow sent this too.”

Overkill.

Rue pulls out a card and begins to read. “It says, ‘Beauty for the b?—’”

Iris snatches the card and shoves it back in the basket. “It’s Violet’s. Not yours.”

As Iris and Quinn drop the basket near the piano, Rue whirls on me. “What did you get her?” she asks.

“Dinner with me at the best restaurant in Sabine,” I say.

“Mickey’s Burger Joint?”

“No, kid, grown-up stuff. Better than flowers.”

“It better not be too grown-up,” Heath grumbles, but I catch it, and the unspoken threat.

“When is Vi coming down?” Rue groans. “It’s takingforever.”

“Hush,” Mrs. Gardener says.

“I’m here.” Violet’s there in the doorway, gaze dragging over everyone in the room until finally restingon me. There’s a smile there, but it’s forced, masking the stress simmering underneath. The dress she wears is a simple shift of high-necked netting with a lower cut beneath. The green, gold, and violet hues make her skin almost luminous. Her hair is curled and piled up high with curls falling all around her face, where touches of gold glitter are dusted on her cheeks, and I’m struck dumb by how absolutely gorgeous she looks. Less like a sheltered princess and more like a vixen.

“Vi! Look at what Dominic sent you!” Rue points to the bouquet and basket. “Aren’t they beautiful!”

She barely looks at them and nods. “Very much so.”

“I already volunteered to chaperone tonight,” Iris says. “Gonna make sure there’s nothing else for Queen Bee to write about these two lovebirds.”

---