Page 112 of For Dear Life

“Kiss me?”

“Draw blood again.”

“So, you would kiss me?” I tip her face. Violet takes a shaky breath. “Something in the shadowed heart of me absolutely and totally lusts for your blood, but I’d take a single kiss over that.”

She doesn’t move, as if I’m the one using a spell rather than the magical retaliation I’d expect from Violet. I move my mouth closer, lips hovering near enough that I can taste the sweetness on her breath.

Violet doesn’t move, telling me everything without saying anything.

“This is how it’s going to be then?” I whisper. “A fight for control?”

“Against you?”

“No. Against yourself.”

“You want to know how I felt taking your blood?” she says stiffly, not moving her torturous lips from near mine. “Like I wanted everything. All of you. That I didn’t care if you did the same to me. Now that I have that blood inside me, I want more—she wants more. Not me. I don’t want to lose myself to the hybrid or lose you.”

“But that isn’t the problem, is it, Violet?” I say moving my lips close to her ear. “We’re past that. We’re past everything we were because you have Petrescu blood inside you now. My blood.”

“I’m painfully aware of that.”

I look back to her. “Is this because you think I want yours? I don’t. I’ve no idea what your blood might do to me physically and I’ve a clear idea of what your father would.”

Violet’s pulse heightens, that precious blood flushing from her cheeks to neck, her scent sending the world hazy. She doesn’t move, driving the frustration deeper. We’re close—closer than the time in the closet when I should’ve just bloody kissed her.

There’s no clever retort or threat, but Violet does exactly what I expected. The thing she does the best.

Holds back.

Laughing softly, I cup Violet’s face and briefly press my lips to hers, knowing she’ll hit me with either her fist or the truth. Violet’s energy becomes shakier, but she doesn’t let that control go, even though I feel in my bones that her protests don’t come from fear she’ll hurt me, but that she’ll lose herself.

“Everything’s changed,” I whisper and move away. “Because the Violet I first met would’ve broken my neck by now, yet here we are.”

That stillness. The silence.

But the desire? Hers screams at me.

“Then you still have time to leave before I do,” she says hoarsely.

With a shake of my head, I step back and yank at the door handle. “I’ll respect what you’re saying and what you want, but this won’t be easy.”

She blinks back to the here and now, disoriented by my sudden shift. “Again, I apologize.”

“No, Violet. This won’t be easy for you. I’m done—you haven’t even started yet.”

“Done what?” she asks.

“I’ll leave you to figure that out. After all, you’re the smart one.”

But as I step through that door, waiting for a snarky comment, all that follows me away from her room is silence.

38

VIOLET

Tendrils of hair curl around the front of my face, the rest pulled back and upwards to create a chiffon. The style reflected in the mirror isn’t what draws my attention. The tiara I position on my head does.

The amethyst catches the light, matching the shimmering purple I’ve allowed Holly do adorn my eyelids with, along with my signature black kohl and deep red lips. Holly gawks at me as she walks from the bathroom, followed by a choking cloud of perfume.

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